


Deep Dark

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Belting, Bruises, Caning, Choking, Collar, Collars, Emotional Abuse, Figging, Graphic Non-Con, Graphic Violence, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Object Insertion, Paddling, Pain, Punishment, Rough Sex, Slapping, Spanking, Suspension Bondage, Torture, Training, Whipping, cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder, leash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:25:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4174641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal Lecter is a prominent psychiatrist looking for a new pet project, someone to bend to his will, punish and reward. Will Graham is a psychology student on a break from college and working in a bar a few blocks away from Hannibal's residence. As soon as Hannibal meets Will he immediately knows he wants to control him, abuse him, torture him and punish him. And make him come back begging for more. Will is interested but has a few skeletons in his closet, namely one Frederick Chilton who loves to hurt him more than necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Hannibal Lecter saw Will Graham was when he walked past the bar on 4th Street. Hannibal had been working late and, needing some fresh air after his last patient, had decided to take a brisk stroll through the streets around his home. He hardly ever did this but that last patient had been so unbelievably tiresome. And rude. He would hardly let Hannibal finish any of his questions before interrupting. It had made Hannibal’s blood boil but he’d calmly let the other man talk at great lengths about literally nothing until their time was up.

So, instead of simply pouring a glass of red wine and starting on dinner – Tandoori liver – he simply shrugged into his suit jacket and stepped outside into the cool night air. Walking down the street he listened to his footsteps on the pavement, beating out a smart pattern. God, how he wished for someone he could beat right now. A whipping boy of sorts. To take away the mediocrity of his day to dark work.

Whilst he enjoyed taking apart his enemies with surgical precision and forming their vital organs into an elaborate Cordon Bleu-worthy dish, it just wasn’t feeding his soul completely at the moment. So to speak.

He needed a new project. Something he could bend to his desires and wants. A toy to keep his interests going. A plaything. He needed to hurt something. And that something needed to keep coming back for more. And by God he knew exactly how he wanted to do it.

But, for the moment, he just walked. Strolled along the street, watching passersby struggling with their overladen bags of groceries. Digging around in their messy purses for their continually misplaced car keys. Tugging the hands of children, the leads of dogs. The latter he found particularly arousing but chose to keep his poker face intact. However, it did give him ideas.

After walking for a good twenty minutes he stopped at an intersection. On the corner he was standing on was a bar, The Black Stag. On the other three corners was a bodega, a closed café and a bookshop. The bookshop was shut but the adult store above it was open, the light dull behind the closed curtains. He grinned slightly at that and turned around, ready to walk back to his warm kitchen and the liver of Hank Stein, a man who’d frustrated him recently last time he’d been forced to wait in line at the DMV with all the other plebs. Why these things couldn’t all be done online in this modern day and age he had no idea.

He mentally shook those irritating thoughts from his head and looked up. His gaze led him straight through the dusty windows of The Black Stag and across the empty room to the bar, behind which stood a young man, his head bowed. His dark hair curled over his ears and the collar of the khaki canvas shirt he was wearing. He was focusing on something that Hannibal couldn’t see. Something behind the bar. Hannibal’s curiosity was piqued. Tandoori liver forgotten, he pushed open the door and walked into the warmth of the bar.

The bartender still didn’t look up as Hannibal approached the bar, which made him frown. Granted, the bar was relatively empty, there was only three other patrons sitting in booths against the windows but the door had one of those bells that jingled as you opened it. Surely he’d heard Hannibal walk in.

Despite the bartender’s apparent insolence, Hannibal took a seat at the bar right in front of where the barman was standing. Hannibal was torn between two contemplations as the bartender still didn’t look up. Both thoughts started out the same way – Hannibal roughly grabbing a fistful of those curly, dark locks, holding them tightly in his strong hand and slamming the bartender face first down across the bar – but then they deviated slightly. Before he had time to flesh out those notions in his mind, the bartender looked up.

“Oh God, I’m s-sorry,” he stammered in a quiet voice. “I, uh, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Hannibal nodded taking in the bartender’s young face. Dark stubble covered his jawline and his lean cheeks. Bright blue eyes framed by glasses flickered up to Hannibal’s own intensely dark eyes before immediately lowering to a spot around his chest. Brilliant, Hannibal thought, already perfectly submissive, he doesn’t think he’s even worthy of making eye contact. Hannibal could tell the bartender was anxious and apprehensive of him and it only made their exchange that much sweeter. The bartender cleared his throat softly, clearly wanting Hannibal to make his order. But Hannibal wasn’t going to let him off lightly for his earlier infraction of ignoring him as he entered the bar. No, he was going to make the bartender ask for his order.

“W-what can I get for you sir?” the bartender asked and Hannibal had to stop himself from grinning. Already calling me sir? Hannibal mentally checked another box for the young man’s submissive profile.

“I will have a glass of red wine. A Shiraz if you have any,” Hannibal said sternly but not angrily. The Shiraz would go perfectly with his Tandoori liver later on. In fact he’d already pulled a bottle of the bold red wine out of his cellar to go with his dinner that afternoon, letting it breathe on the kitchen counter right now.

“Sure thing,” the bartender said.

He pulled out a cocktail napkin and placed it hurriedly on the bar in front of Hannibal before reaching a wine glass from the overhead racks. Then he bent down to search for the requested bottle. This gave Hannibal a chance to see what the bartender had been so focused on earlier. He leant forwards slightly to see that the nervous, young barman was halfway through a game of Patience, the cards laid out across the lower side of the bar. And he was a relatively good player too; he’d almost completed each suit of cards.

Having found the bottle, the bartender stood back up and was startled to see Hannibal flipping over a card from the deck and moving it onto one of the piles.

“I’m sorry, sir, I’ll p-put them away,” he said anxiously, his eyes downcast.

“Please, no need,” Hannibal replied, watching the bartender visibly relax at his calming tone of voice. “I was simply seeing where you were up to. You’re quite good at this game.”

“Tuesdays are never very busy,” the bartender replied in a hushed voice, pouring the glass of Shiraz.

“I’m sure they aren’t,” Hannibal agreed. He picked up the wine glass by the stem and inhaled the aromas. Strong and bold. Then he took a sip.

“Is it alright, s-sir?” the bartender asked.

“It is perfect, thank you,” Hannibal said, setting the glass back down.

“I’ve never seen you in here before,” the bartender said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

That was a bold comment, Hannibal thought. Maybe the boy does have a bit of strength in him.

“You would be right. I’ve not come in before,” Hannibal said, not giving too much away. He took another mouthful of the wine. Hannibal could tell the bartender wanted to ask him why he’d chosen to come in tonight; after all he was alone, sitting at the bar and didn’t appear to be waiting for anyone. But the bartender had clearly lost his nerve as he simply stood in front of Hannibal silently, his eyes focused on the bar. “I had a trying day,” Hannibal finally said by way of explanation. “I’m a psychiatrist. I work five blocks east. My last patient left me a little…well, worn out is not the right phrase but it’ll do for right now. I needed some fresh air. A walk. A glass of wine sounded like a good idea as well.”

The bartender nodded in response but stayed silent.

“What is your name?” Hannibal asked, before taking a sip of the Shiraz.

The barman’s troubled blue eyes shot up to meet Hannibal’s before dropping again instantly. “M-my name?”

“Yes. Your name,” Hannibal replied. It wasn’t a question and it certainly wasn’t a statement. It was an order. A command. And Hannibal’s commands were never usually disobeyed.

“Uh, it’s Will Graham,” the bartender said shakily. Hannibal could tell that, on a subconscious level, the barman was registering his dominance. He took another sip of wine before speaking.

“Well Will Graham, it has been a pleasure meeting you,” Hannibal said. He finished the glass of wine and set it down on the table before standing. “Maybe you should try a different game?” he motioned to the cards on the bar. “Maybe something that challenges you a little more.”

He watched as Will looked down at the cards briefly before once again flickering his eyes up to Hannibal’s momentarily before moving his gaze back down to the safer altitudes.

“L-like what?” he asked, his tone wavering.

“Goodnight Will,” Hannibal said. He pulled a twenty-dollar note out from his wallet and set it down on the bar. He knew the glass of wine couldn’t have cost anywhere near that amount but it was all part of his design. He walked out of the bar at an even, measured pace, not looking back once. He knew he’d be back soon. And he knew Will would be waiting for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal did not go back to the bar for the rest of that week. He wanted to plan out exactly how to capture the mind of the young Will Graham. He wanted to devise his intricate tortures and torments first before exacting them on what would eventually be his willing subject. That’s not to say he avoided the bar though.

He went on more nightly strolls than usual, but crossed to the other side of the street. It would not do well to have Will Graham think that Hannibal was infatuated with him; that he couldn’t stay away from him. Instead he walked past the bar, keeping a keen eye out for the young, nervous bartender.

Will Graham was perfect for what he had in mind. He was already so deliciously submissive. So intensely overwrought with nerves that he might have made a mistake. That he might have caused an offence. But, by his very nature, he would do that regardless. He would get caught up in his own world, playing cards against himself, not noticing the customers walking into the bar until they rapped loudly on the wooden bar in front of him, making him jump. Hannibal had seen that happen at least twice in the last ten days.

It made him smile, every time he saw Will startled like that. But it also made him frustrated. He wanted to be the one to startle the bartender.

By the end of the second week he’d decided it was time to go back. Time for the lion to go visit the lamb.

Hannibal strode confidently into The Black Stag, the bell jingling in his wake. Will Graham looked up from his normal position behind the bar and locked eyes with Hannibal for a split second. There was no one else in the bar. Hannibal had Will all to himself for the night.

“Evening,” Will said nervously. “Wine again?”

“You remembered,” Hannibal said, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

Will was silent but nodded in return.

“Shiraz,” Hannibal said, purposefully neglecting to add the word ‘please’. He would never want to ask Will to do anything with that word. He wanted Will to follow his orders without question. He had to be dominant right from the very beginning. And that mindset came very easy to him.

Will nodded in response and poured a glass for him. While he was busying himself with the red wine, Hannibal leaned forward to see he was, once again, halfway through a game of Patience.

“You didn’t take my advice,” Hannibal said and goddamn if Will didn’t almost drop his glass of wine right there and then.

“W-what, sir?” he asked tentatively, placing the glass of Shiraz in front of Hannibal.

“Patience is too easy. You need a challenge. And Patience does not challenge you Will,” Hannibal stated.

“I, uh, I only play it to pass the time,” Will replied rather lamely.

“I know,” Hannibal said, taking in the full-bodied scent of the wine. “But there are so many other things you could do to pass the time Will.”

“Like what?”

“Do you know any other card games?” Hannibal asked innocently.

Will nodded in response. “My, uh, my f-father taught me,” he stammered. Hannibal picked up on the discomfort that Will was feeling as he mentioned his father. Was his father rough with him perhaps? Did he beat Will as a child? Was he the reason why Will was so subservient to a dominant male personality? These were all aspects of Will’s psyche that he could use against him. And that Hannibal planned on using against him.

“What other games do you know Will?” Hannibal asked, his tone getting sharper. He was getting a little frustrated with the way Will was skirting around the answers. Once he came under Hannibal’s control there would be no way of evading his questions.

“Uh I know how to play poker, blackjack, rickety Kate, gin rummy”-

“Gin rummy? I do enjoy playing that game. Why don’t we play it now?” Hannibal said, enjoying the way Will got flustered at his interruption. Hannibal himself was an expert card player. And gin rummy was one of his fortes.

“I…I d-don’t know if my boss would be too happy with me”-

“Oh go on Will. It’s not like there’s anyone else in here that requires your undivided attention,” Hannibal pressed, knowing the nervous bartender would break easily. He was a customer after all, and the customer is always right. And always in control, Hannibal thought devilishly.

“O-ok then,” Will said. He deftly picked up the cards and shuffled them. Hannibal watched him closely. His fingers were quick and nimble as he moved the cards around and very quickly the deck was shuffled thoroughly. He dealt them each ten cards before putting the rest of the deck on the bar next to Hannibal, a gesture that made Hannibal smile. Already deferring to me, he thought.

They played in silence with Will letting Hannibal have the first go at the upcard. Hannibal kept a close eye on the cards Will picked up and noticed immediately that he was trying to make a run of spades and he stopped him by picking up the one card he knew Will needed. Hannibal had started off with a good hand; despite Will’s expert shuffling, he’d been dealt four Kings and he’d collected the two through six of hearts in a few moves. His tenth card was the two of clubs and he could play that anytime. But at the moment he was having too much fun swapping it back into the deck anytime he saw a card come up that Will needed. Watching the young man’s face drop every time Hannibal picked up the very card he needed was priceless. Especially when he knew Will was aware of what he was doing.

The eighth time he picked up what could have been Will’s winning card, the bartender groaned softly.

“What is it Will?” he asked, keeping his tone of voice light and innocuous.

“You keep taking my…” Will drifted off not wanting to finish the sentence. Knowing it would make him look weak and at the mercy of Hannibal. However the truth was that he was entirely at the mercy of Hannibal and he was starting to figure that out. Very quickly.

“I keep taking your what Will?”

“Uh…n-nothing,” Will replied shaking his head. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his face with his hand, feeling even more nervous than he had when Hannibal had first walked in. The psychiatrist unnerved him. Definitely unnerved him. And also scared him a little. He was so calm and precise. So measured and cultured. So well and truly above Will in the pecking order.

“Well without further ado, I believe I have you beat, Will,” Hannibal said, laying down his cards on the bar. The last card he’d picked up was the seven of hearts so he had the four Kings and a run of six hearts cards. No deadwood. With a sigh, Will laid out his own hand. He’d managed to make a combination with six of his cards, but the other four were completely mismatched.

“I guess I win,” Hannibal said happily.

“You do,” Will replied. He went to pick up the cards from the bar but Hannibal grasped his wrist gently making him inhale sharply.

“I want you to come to dinner at my place. You don’t usually work Thursday nights, do you?” Hannibal asked. He’d been very careful to notice Will’s nights off. He knew that information would come in handy later.

“Uh, n-no I don’t,” Will said. His eyes moved quickly between Hannibal’s hand on his wrist and the bar’s front door. He was very nervous now. What if his boss came in? And saw a customer doing this? Saw him playing cards? He’d already been told off a couple of times for doing that while he was meant to be working. His boss didn’t care that the bar was empty most weeknights. That certainly wasn’t an invitation to while away the time with a deck of cards. Will could feel his heart hammering against his chest but resisted the urge to pull his wrist out of the psychiatrist’s grip. Whilst he wasn’t holding onto him tight at the moment, Will could sense there was a lot more strength to the man than met the eye.

“Well then, this Thursday, you will come to my home for dinner,” Hannibal said, keeping his hold on Will’s wrist.

“B-but I don’t even know your name,” Will responded shakily.

“You don’t need to just yet,” Hannibal replied, tightening his grip incrementally on the young man’s wrist. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a pen. “This is my address,” he said, writing it down on the cocktail napkin Will had given him when he’d poured his glass of Shiraz. “Let’s say, seven o’clock. Sharp.”

With his left hand – his right was still imprisoned in Hannibal’s grip – Will picked up the cocktail napkin. He read the address and nodded at Hannibal.

“Don’t be late,” Hannibal warned. Will nodded again. Hannibal squeezed his wrist and Will gasped softly. It was the first time Hannibal had caused him any pain. “Tell me you won’t be late.”

“I won’t be late, s-sir,” Will whispered, nodding his head in promise.

“Good,” Hannibal said, letting go of Will’s wrist. Will immediately jerked his hand backwards away from the bar. But he didn’t make any moves to run from Hannibal. Just as Hannibal liked it.

“I will see you on Thursday then,” Hannibal said, standing up and once again, placing a twenty-dollar bill on the bar to pay for his single glass of wine. “Goodnight Will.”

“Goodnight s-sir,” he heard Will stammer behind him as he left.

Hannibal allowed himself a grin as he left The Black Stag. Thursday was two days away. He had plenty of time to put into motion his design for Will. And he couldn’t wait to see it all play out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! I didn't want this to be a pure PWP, so there is a bit of story (preamble) to get through. But there is definite smut in the next chapter. And not quite what you'd expect...


	3. Chapter 3

Thursday.

Will Graham walked up to the large, imposing building that awaited him at the address he’d been given. He was nervous. That was clear. He honestly didn’t know what was waiting for him behind that heavy door. And he wasn’t sure he really wanted to find out. The only thing he did know was that this man was a man of means. His clothing was lush and expensive. The Shiraz he kept buying was only six dollars a glass. And every time he paid with a single twenty-dollar bill. And this house. This house was huge. Will shakily walked up to the door. He could feel the adrenalin pumping through him.

He stood in front of the door for far longer than was necessary. It was only when he looked at his watch and his heart jumped into his throat when he saw it was seven minutes past seven that he hurriedly knocked on the door. He heard footsteps walking up to the threshold and his breathing started speeding up. Will realised he really was quite afraid of the man. But before he could change his mind and race back down to the safety of the sidewalk, the door swung open.

“Will! I’m so glad to see you,” the psychiatrist said with a wide smile. “Please, do come in.”

The older man opened the door for him and Will walked in. He had to stop his jaw from literally dropping at the interior design of the place. It was immaculate and modern with deep colours and expensive looking pieces of furniture. The smell of a roast wafted towards him and he couldn’t help licking his lips – it smelled divine. Rich and pungent, the perfect thing for a chilly fall night.

“The dinner is in the oven cooking. It will not be done for a little while so why don’t you come in here,” the psychiatrist said, leading the way into his opulent living room. “Please sit,” he added, gesturing to an armchair.

The psychiatrist had set up two armchairs opposite each other with a side table in between them. A deck of cards was sitting innocently on the table.

“Y-you want to play cards?” Will asked, hating how he stammered whenever the older man was around. He still didn’t even know his name.

“Sit Will,” the psychiatrist said firmly. He placed his hands on Will’s shoulders and gently tugged off Will’s jacket before guiding him to the chair and pushing him down into it. Will let him, not really seeing a choice in the matter. “Yes. We will play cards. But it’s not just cards we’ll be playing Will.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked, looking up at the psychiatrist before dropping his eyes when he locked into the dark gaze of the other man. “I d-don’t even know your name yet.”

“We’ll be playing for power. For information. Everything I give you, you will have to earn and that includes my name,” the psychiatrist said, sitting down opposite Will. “And everything you lose will be determined by how you play tonight.”

“W-what do you mean, playing for power? What will you be giving me?” Will asked, getting worried. He made to stand up again but one glare from the psychiatrist had him pinned to the chair.

“I promise that by the end of tonight, you will be _begging_ me not to stop. Now don’t you want to see what it means when someone promises you that?” the older man asked, lowering the tone of his voice.

“Said the spider to the fly,” Will replied under his breath.

“That would be two infractions so far,” the psychiatrist stated calmly.

“What?” Will’s eyes shot up.

“Well, first of all Will, you were late. That was your first transgression.” The psychiatrist started shuffling the deck. “We will be playing a two-handed version of five hundred. But this game is different. We will not bid against each other. We will not choose a trump suit. Each trick you lose will be something I gain. And vice verca.”

“But how do I know what I’m losing?” Will asked, frowning at the cards on the table being dealt out.

“You won’t. You’re playing against the house dear Will. And those are my rules.”

“I d-don’t know if I want to play this game,” Will said. And this time he did stand up.

“Remember what I told you earlier?”

“Y-yes,” Will said, a slight blush creeping to his cheeks.

“Then I would _sit down_ if I were you.”

Will debated for a moment before relinquishing control. He sat down and took a deep breath. And concentrated on the cards.

Without even trying hard he won the first trick. Although he had a sneaking suspicion the older man had let him win.

“Well done Will. Your prize is my name – Dr Hannibal Lecter,” the psychiatrist said with a smile. He didn’t seem too annoyed that Will had won the first trick and Will let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding.

Hannibal won the next trick and Will looked up at him, swallowing hard.

“Ah I win that one. And you lose…your voice,” Hannibal said, trying hard to keep his excitement under wraps.

“M-my voice?” Will echoed anxiously.

“Yes my dear Will. As much as I do like listening to you stammer and stutter, I will be gagging you.”

“G-gagging me?”

“We should probably keep playing Will. You might win a trick.”

And the next trick was indeed won by Will.

“What do I win?” Will asked, nervous about the answer.

“Your sight.”

“You were going to b”-

“Blindfold you, yes. But now I will not. And it would have been a shame to cover up those eyes anyway,” Hannibal said with a smile that was almost kind.

Hannibal won the following trick and Will’s stomach dropped at the thought of what he would be losing next.

“Ah you will be bound. And I won the trick with a King which means you will be bound with rope. Pity it wasn’t an Ace,” Hannibal mused, moving the cards to his side of the table.

“W-what does the Ace mean?” Will asked, not necessarily wanting to know the answer.

“Steel handcuffs.”

“Oh,” Will replied. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed a hand over his face. This game was getting too intense. He was in way over his head. But how could he possibly escape from this man at this point?

Hannibal won the next trick as well and Will started to get very nervous. His knee started bouncing up and down and, try as he might, he couldn’t get it to stop.

“What now?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“Now I find out how long you stay here for,” Hannibal said. “I won that trick with a 9. I can’t possibly keep you here for 9 hours can I?”

Will was silent but shook his head, no, hoping that Hannibal wouldn’t keep him here for that long.

“Well how about we call it until midnight then?” Hannibal suggested. But it wasn’t a suggestion that Will could argue with and that was made abundantly clear. “This next trick is something you might want to worry about.”

“And the others weren’t?” Will asked, incredulously.

“Three infractions. Do not talk to me like that Will, it’s incredibly unbecoming. And rude,” Hannibal rebuked and was pleased when Will ducked his head in submission. “This next trick will be how I determine the severity of your punishment.”

“P-punishment?” Will stuttered, his heart racing. If anything he had to win this trick. He didn’t want to get punished at all, forget how light or severe it was.

To his despair Hannibal won the trick. With not one but two Aces.

“W-what does that mean?” he asked, his voice shaking considerably.

“That means that you had better not make any more mistakes Will. Or you will live to regret it. And I think it’s time we started.” Hannibal set down the remainder of his cards and plucked Will’s cards from his hands making him jump. “Stand up.”

“B-but we haven’t finished the game,” Will objected, his breaths coming in faster and faster.

“Four infractions. Stand up.”

Will unsteadily got to his feet but kept his eyes on the lushly carpeted floor.

“Strip.”

Will hesitated for a moment, but that was enough for Hannibal.

“Five infractions. Now strip.”

“O-okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

“Sir,” Hannibal corrected. “You are to refer to me as ‘sir’.”

“I’m sorry s-sir,” Will said his trembling fingers reaching for the buttons on his shirt. He slowly undid the buttons, completely terrified of what this madman was going to do to him.

“Faster.”

Will tried to hurry himself up but his hands were shaking so much it was next to impossible. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and took that off. Then he toed off his boots and unbuckled his belt. With a deep breath, he unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the floor so that he was standing there in his boxers.

“Those too,” Hannibal said, looking pointedly at his shorts.

“B-but”-

“Six infractions. I don’t wish to torture you Will but you’re not giving me any choice here,” Hannibal reprimanded.

Keeping his eyes on the floor, Will hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slid them down as well so that he was standing in Hannibal’s living room completely naked.

While he’d been undressing, Hannibal had plucked a length of rope out from a drawer in his living room’s desk and walked up to Will. He grasped Will’s left wrist and started expertly winding the coarse rope around it. Then he grabbed Will’s other wrist and tied knots around that too. Soon Will’s wrists were completely bound in front of him.

“Walk over to the desk,” Hannibal ordered.

Will moved so that he was facing Hannibal’s desk. But Hannibal grabbed his shoulders and turned him around.

“Do not move. First, your reward for coming to my home,” Hannibal said. “Then I need to punish you.”

Will leaned up against the heavy desk, breathing heavily. The coarse rope binding his wrists was tight but not tight enough to leave any marks or bruises just yet. But he certainly wasn’t feeling comfortable right now. He wasn’t expecting to like Hannibal’s punishment but was surprised with the psychiatrist lowered himself to his knees in front of Will.

Will gasped as Hannibal stroked his limp cock and within seconds it was springing to life. To Will’s horror his length grew hard as the psychiatrist continued stroking it, going torturously slowly. Then he licked the tip. It wasn't as if he wasn't into men, he was. But just the thought of being in a strange man's house, naked and bound, and getting aroused despite all of that really threw him for six.

Will groaned at the feeling of Hannibal licking his length. The psychiatrist cupped his balls as he continued to suck on the end of Will’s cock. The man was extremely talented, Will thought. He took all of Will into his mouth and sucked for all he was worth, Will revelling in the feeling. He tried to focus on something else but the man was too good, too skilled. Within minutes he came explosively with Hannibal swallowing every drop. Will sagged back against Hannibal’s desk, catching his breath in big gulps of air.

“How was that Will?” Hannibal asked, getting to his feet and wiping his mouth with a pristine silk handkerchief.

“That was…that was good…thank you,” Will said, in between breaths.

Hannibal pulled a length of fabric out of his pants pocket. “That was your reward. Now comes your punishment. Turn around.”

Will’s stomach dropped once again at the thought of Hannibal’s punishment. He’d made six mistakes. He had no idea how Hannibal was going to punish him but he knew it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. But that blow job had been amazing…Maybe if he was good he’d get more of those and less punishments he thought, turning around to face the table.

The taller man brought the length of fabric in front of Will’s mouth and Will opened his mouth in response. The fabric was tied tightly behind his head, pulling painfully at the sensitive corners of Will’s mouth and making him wince.

“Now, bend over the desk. I want your chest flat on the wood,” Hannibal ordered.

Will complied, stretching his bound arms in front of him and laying over the desk. Hannibal walked around to the other side of the desk and grasped his bound wrists, hooking them to what sounded like a carabiner lock on the other side. The psychiatrist then walked back around to the other side.

“Spread your legs.”

Will obeyed and spread his legs, starting to get incredibly apprehensive and anxious. What the hell had he gotten himself into, he wondered.

“Further.”

Will spread his legs further, pulling on his bound wrists and pressing harder into the surface of the desk.

“ _Further_.”

Will sensed the dominance in the other man’s voice and spread his legs as much as he could with his wrists bound to the other side of the desk.

“That’s better.” Hannibal said. He walked away from the desk and Will heard him opening a cupboard door. He retrieved something from the cupboard then walked back to Will. “Now your punishment begins. You’ll be getting ten strokes for each transgression. That’s sixty strokes. You will not move from this position. You will not close your legs. And most important you will not clench your buttocks. If you do that, your punishment will become even more severe. And it’s not for the faint of heart. There is no safe word here but I will not be harming you more than I think you can handle. But follow my rules or you will be more than sorry.”

At that, Hannibal slapped whatever he was holding into the palm of one of his hands. It was, without doubt, a leather riding crop. And Will was beyond terrified at that point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delicious Will punishment follows in the next chapter... enjoy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanking with a riding crop, paddle and a belt, as well as figging. Will's torment begins...

“And now we begin.”

Will forced himself to remain still, stretched out on Dr Hannibal Lecter’s desk. He heard Hannibal move into position behind him and he shuddered slightly. He was still frustratingly half hard from Hannibal’s earlier blow job but he had a feeling that wouldn’t last through his punishment.

He heard the riding crop whistling through the air a split second before it landed on his backside with a smart slap. He jumped but managed to hold his position. Will could feel a line of fire across his arse and swallowed thickly. The riding crop hurt. Without any warning, Hannibal struck again, two inches below his previous strike. By the fourth strike Will was used to the pain but it didn't necessarily make it easier for him to bear. It was a sharp pain at first but dulled very quickly to a hot ache stretching across his cheeks.

Hannibal was very measured in his strokes. He’d started right at the top of Will’s backside and was slowly working his way down to the tops of his thighs, one hit at a time. To his credit, Will had only shifted on that first stroke. The rest he took gamely, keeping to his awkward position, stretched out over the desk and with his legs spread far more than was comfortable. When Hannibal struck him for the twentieth time he had reached the very tops of Will’s thighs. He stopped for a moment. It was time to make this more interesting.

“Close your legs Will,” Hannibal commanded but kept his voice gentle. He didn’t want to scare the boy now.

Will hesitated for a moment, remembering Hannibal’s initial orders. Hannibal laid a hand on Will’s hot red-striped arse making his gasp. But also making his cock jump.

“Close your legs.”

Will shifted his legs together, groaning slightly as his knees and hips ached from the difficult position he’d been in for a while.

“A third of your punishment is over Will,” Hannibal said, gently stroking Will’s backside. “You have done well. How do you feel about upping the ante though?”

Will turned his head to the side to look at Hannibal. And after a moment, he nodded. He was so turned on in that moment that he would’ve done practically anything that Hannibal asked of him right now.

“Well then my beautiful boy, wait here,” Hannibal said. He brushed Will’s behind gently making him shiver in anticipation and then left the room.

Will took that moment to take in a deep breath and try to get his bearings back. His arse was unbelievably sore and hot right at the moment but he was already getting hard again. Whilst he sometimes solicited to get some extra cash when the Black Stag was too quiet to pay the rent, he’d hadn't done this in a long time. He heard footsteps coming from the hallway as Hannibal returned and he took another deep breath to steady himself.

“Spread your legs again Will,” Hannibal said, his voice even and low. Commanding but not dangerous. Yet.

Will spread his legs and he felt Hannibal place a lubed finger on his spine. He shivered in expectation as Hannibal dragged his fingernail down his spine towards his opening before roughly shoving it inside. Will gasped behind the gag as Hannibal added another finger without warning, stretching him open. Almost too soon, a third finger was added and he groaned, half in wanting and half in pain. It had really been a long time since he’d done this. He normally just sucked guys off in the alley behind the bar. Every now and then he’d take one of them home. But it had been a few months since the last one. And it had been a very long time since Frederick Chilton's last visit...

Suddenly Hannibal withdrew his fingers and Will had to stop himself from whining at their absence. But then something else was pushing at his opening. Hannibal pushed the invading object into Will and let it fit snugly inside of him.

Will tried to turn his head to look at Hannibal but his binds didn’t allow him.

“That, my dear boy, is raw ginger,” Hannibal said, rubbing his hand over Will’s rear. “You’ll soon start to feel it heat up inside you.”

Almost as soon as he said this, Will started to feel the heat coming from his opening. At first it was easily bearable but it just started getting hotter and hotter and hotter.

“Feeling it now?” Hannibal asked.

Will nodded, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He nodded and, as the burn impossibly intensified, he couldn’t help the whimper that escaped behind the gag. It was becoming almost unbearably, painfully hot now.

“Well now we continue with your punishment,” Hannibal said. The psychiatrist couldn’t help grinning when he heard Will whimper a second time. “You didn’t think it was over did you? Now the whole purpose of the ginger is to stop you from clenching. Just an added incentive with no permanent damage.”

Will heard Hannibal retrieve something from the same cupboard where the riding crop came from. “Now we begin again.”

Without any further warning, Hannibal landed a hard wooden paddle onto Will’s rear, making him cry out, clench his buttocks, feel the burn from the ginger quadruple and scream again.

“Ah, now you know not to clench,” Hannibal said, tapping his behind.

Will drew in a deep breath. The burning in his arse intensified even more if that was possible. Tears leaked from his eyes but, at the same time his cock grew immeasurably harder.

Hannibal raised the paddle and struck him again and again. There were holes cut in the wood to decrease wind resistance and it thudded firmly against his now-scarlet butt. Whilst the riding crop had imparted a sting and a following ache, the paddle was dull pain but, coupled with the ginger, it hurt tenfold. Finally Hannibal reached twenty strikes and placed the paddle down on the desk next to Will’s face.

“Almost done my dear boy,” Hannibal said. “You really should be more careful about infractions. Especially on your first time.”

Will tried to compose himself as the ginger kept burning away in his arse and his cheeks throbbed in pain. He heard Hannibal walk back over to the cupboard and started dreading what would be next. Surely he wouldn’t actually hurt him…

Hannibal picked something out and walked back to Will.

“The last twenty strokes,” Hannibal intoned. He brushed a hand over Will’s hot-to-the-touch butt making him gasp. “Now, these will hurt. Remember I know when to stop. But, these last twenty will definitely hurt. Feel free to eat dinner standing up.”

Without warning Will arse was whipped with the forceful bite of a leather belt and he screamed into the gag. A line of fire erupted over his butt and he breathed heavily through the fabric gag. Twenty hits like that? Hannibal struck him a second time and Will cried out again. Whilst the riding crop was stinging pain and the paddle was a duller blow, the leather belt had both the bite of the crop and the heavy painful thud of the paddle. And, on top of that, the ginger was still burning away. It was, he thought grimly, the best of both worlds. He was more prepared when Hannibal hit him again and he managed not to cry out again until the last three strikes.

True to Hannibal’s words, he wasn’t permanently damaged. His arse was bright red with deeper scarlet lines from the belt that would probably darken into painful bruises by tomorrow. But they would heal fast, Hannibal hadn't put too much force into his strikes, letting the instrument do the work for him. The bruises would be gone under a week.

Hannibal laid down the belt and placed his hands on Will’s butt relishing the boy’s gasp of pain. The heat from Will’s bruised, beaten skin was intoxicating to him and he gave Will’s arse one last rub before pulling the ginger from his opening. Next, he unhooked Will’s bound wrists from the other side of the desk and helped the boy to stand up. He could tell Will was shaky from his ordeal. But his painfully hard cock was testament to his arousal.

He untied Will’s wrist, loving how the ropes had reddened and burned the sensitive skin there. Then he untied Will’s gag.

“So, how do you feel Will?”

“Uh…I g-guess I feel pretty fucking horny right now,” Will said.

Hannibal suddenly struck him, a slap across the face. Will gasped and grabbed his cheek.

“What was that for?” he asked, frowning. Hannibal hit him again, a backhanded blow this time.

“The first time for swearing,” Hannibal said. “The second time for not referring to me by my correct title. Control your tongue. Or I’ll have to. Now get dressed, dinner will be ready anytime now.”

“B-but…” Will drifted off, looking down at his agonizingly hard cock.

“I guess you’ll have to control that too, my dear boy,” Hannibal said. “You are, under no circumstances, to let yourself cum in my presence without my direct approval. Do you understand?”

“I do, but please s-sir”-

Hannibal hit him again across the face, this time splitting Will’s lip. “Do. You. Understand?” he asked again. “Yes or no. And if you say ‘no’ then I’m afraid you’ll be getting sixty more hits. _Right_ _there_ ,” Hannibal added, giving Will’s cock the quickest of strokes making the boy almost go weak at the knees. “I’d try to calm yourself down if I were you. Or those jeans are going to be very uncomfortable. In fact…” Hannibal trailed off and picked up Will’s boxers. “I think you should skip these. I want you to feel that rough denim on your arse. And on your cock. It’ll remind you to behave a little better.”

Just at that moment, Hannibal’s oven made a ringing sound. “Dinner’s ready. Get dressed, my dear boy.”

Hannibal left the room, going presumably towards the kitchen. Will sighed deeply and looked down at his jeans then at his cock. Hannibal was right. This was going to get very uncomfortable.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More punishment for Will ahead, spanking and a touch of cbt, as well as rules being laid out by his new master...

Hannibal’s culinary skills were as divine and exemplary as his home was. And, despite the rough material of Will’s jeans chafing his reddened behind and constraining his still painfully hard length, he was floored when Hannibal brought out dinner. It was a masterpiece of what looked like lamb cutlets arranged tastefully and thoughtfully with delicately sliced vegetables and home-baked bread. It was an ordinary meal made extraordinary by a talented chef.

“So Will,” Hannibal started, after they’d said cheers and had started to tuck in, “how do you feel?”

“I…uh, I’m not sure yet,” Will said, his forkful of food pausing halfway to his mouth. Honestly he was feeling so many things right now he didn’t know how to articulate it.

“Are you sore?” Hannibal asked. He had a sly glint in his eye. Asking a question he knew the answer to already.

“Y-yes,” Will stammered, not entirely sure of how to respond.

“How sore?”

“Uh…I don’t know, very?”

Hannibal frowned at his response and Will dropped his gaze.

“Try harder Will. On a scale of one to ten, how sore are you?”

Was this a trick question? Will racked his brains. If he picked a number too high, Hannibal would think he was lying. If he picked a number too low, Hannibal would probably go harder on him next time. Good lord, was he already thinking there was going to be a next time?

“It’s a simple question, Will, _pick a number_ ,” Hannibal said, his voice becoming sterner. He loved the look of frustration and worry that was currently marring Will's beautiful features.

“Uh I guess seven?” Will replied.

“You guess or you know?”

“No, definitely seven,” Will replied, picking at his food.

“Only seven?” Hannibal murmured, his tone lightening. He turned back to his own dinner and ate a mouthful letting his last comment sink in before adding, “I’ll have to go harder on you next time.”

“What?” Will looked up at the psychiatrist, shocked. “You already went fucking hard on me tonight!” He almost startled himself with his outburst but was stunned when Hannibal reached across the table and backhanded him. “ _Goddamnit_! What the hell was that for?”

Hannibal suddenly stood up and grabbed Will by the throat. He pulled him forcefully out of his chair and slammed him up against the wall. Will gasped at the speed of the older man and brought his hands up, clutching at Hannibal’s hands. Hannibal grabbed Will’s chin roughly with his other hand, hard enough to bruise and lifted his head up so he could see Will’s startled blue eyes.

“Now Will, have I not made myself clear to you?” Hannibal asked. “You do not use that language in my house. Or in my presence. And you will refer to me as sir. If you’re going to ask me why I’m hitting you then you need to say ‘What was that for sir?’. Although questioning my discipline will most likely incur an infraction. And, right now you are definitely up to at least _four_. Now, do you understand?”

Will didn’t trust his voice right at that point so only nodded.

“Will, you need to speak when I ask you a question,” Hannibal said. “Do. You. Understand?”

“Y-yes sir,” Will replied hoarsely.

“Very good,” Hannibal said. He let go of Will so abruptly that he almost fell down in a heap. “Finish your dinner then we’ll continue.”

“We’ll c-continue, sir?” Will asked apprehensively, rubbing his throat where Hannibal’s fingers had bruised his delicate skin and sitting back down at the table.

“Of course. I have you until midnight after all, remember?” Hannibal said. “And remember, like I said, you’re already up to four infractions. I can’t leave those unpunished.”

“And, uh…what do I get in r-return for all of this, sir?” Will asked timidly, keeping his gaze lowered.

“You want me to pay you?” Hannibal replied, unemotionally. “Like a common whore?”

“I…I mean, if you want to do these…these things to me, then…what do I get in return for it?”

“That blow job wasn’t enough?” Hannibal replied with a grin. “Trust me, Will, you will begin to enjoy this. I promise you. Are you finished already?”

Will had set down his cutlery, his insides churning too much for him to eat anymore. “I guess so. It was delicious, but I…”

“Never mind, my dear boy. It’s probably best you do this on an empty stomach,” Hannibal said. “Now come with me again.”

Will stood up and followed Hannibal back into the living room. It was as if his body had a mind of its own. He just submitted to the older man willingly and that did scare him a little.

“So four infractions, Will, you really know how to bring all of this onto yourself,” Hannibal said with a chuckle. “Strip. And don’t make me ask twice.”

Will reluctantly undressed again. In the time they’d been eating dinner his cock had finally softened but his arse was still red and throbbing. Hannibal thought Will's rear looked much better when it was scarlet and striped.

Hannibal sat down on one of the armchairs and patted his lap. “Time for you to bend over my lap, my dear boy.”

Will awkwardly laid himself over Hannibal’s lap and felt Hannibal’s left arm press down on his back. Hannibal’s right hand came down gently on his rear and Will inhaled sharply. His butt was still aching from his earlier flogging. He didn’t know if he could take any more.

“Now Will, I will not be lenient just because you have already been punished. That would go against my values. So, once again, ten strikes for every infraction. You’ll be receiving forty strikes,” Hannibal explained in a measured tone. “Prepare yourself.”

Without any more warning Hannibal lifted his hand then slapped his arse with it. Will jerked in Hannibal’s lap and gasped. That one hit had reawakened all of his raw nerve endings and he had 39 more to go? Hannibal slapped his left cheek and then his right, alternating between his buttocks and moving up and down so as not to hit the same spot repeatedly. His arse was beginning to burn by the time Hannibal had laid the 12th hit but at the same time, Will felt himself getting hard. Forgetting entirely what Hannibal would potentially do for such disobedience, Will reached back to start stroking his own cock. Suddenly Hannibal stopped spanking, thrust his left hand between his lap and Will and grabbed Will’s cock and balls and squeezed making Will cry out.

“I guess I can’t really trust you yet, Will, can I?” he said, giving Will’s most sensitive parts a harsh tug. Will gasped and hurriedly placed his own hand back on the floor.

“I’m sorry sir,” he said breathlessly.

“Sorry won’t cut it. You’ll get ten extra hits and _these_ ”- he gave Will’s privates another painful squeeze –“are staying right here in my hand. Now I think we were up to number 30. So 20 more instead of 10, oh Will, when will you learn?”

Hannibal started spanking him again but now, each time he struck Will’s arse he tugged on Will’s dick and balls making him gasp with every hit. Finally when Will didn’t think he could take any more Hannibal finished. Keeping his hand firmly around Will’s privates, Hannibal helped him up to his feet.

“Your punishment is over Will but there is one lesson you very much need to know,” Hannibal said. He squeezed Will’s cock and balls agonizingly. “These do not belong to you,” he explained, not letting up the pressure on Will’s parts and, in fact, crushing them even further drawing out a strangled cry from Will as he almost buckled from the pain. “These belong to me. When you are with me, you do not have control over these. I do. I decide if and when you cum. I may not let you cum at all. You can ask me but if I say no then that is the end of it. There will be no discussion, no debate. There is only me allowing you to cum or me not allowing you to cum. And trust me when I say that you will most definitely need to earn that right. Do I make myself clear?” he asked with one final squeeze of Will’s now-throbbing length.

“Yes sir,” Will whispered, gritting his teeth.

“And if I find you trying to get yourself off again like that, then be warned, you will be flogged on your cock. I will tie you down and I will whip you _so hard_ there you won’t want to think about touching it for a week. Or I will make you cum so many times, so often that you will be _begging_ me to stop. But I will not stop and you will cum repeatedly for hours on end. Or I will shove so much ginger up your arse you won’t be able to think straight. Then I will drive us at least an hour’s walk away and make you walk back, whilst I drive next to you. Or I will bind your cock and balls with twine and tie them off, hang weights off them and make you jog on the spot until you are dripping with sweat and in utter agony. Do I need to go on Will, or do you think you’ve learned your lesson?”

Will’s mind was reeling with what he had just heard but more importantly right now he was so goddamn hard in Hannibal’s hand that he couldn’t be any less coherent if he wanted to be. Instead he simply nodded in response and added, “Yes sir.”

“Now Will, do you have any questions?” Hannibal finally let go of Will’s cock and it was as hard as rock after hearing all of Hannibal’s potential punishments for him.

“Yes s-sir, I do,” he stammered. “Please…may I cum, s-sir?”

“Yes you can Will, but do not touch yourself,” Hannibal said and Will almost whined in response. “Let me.”

Hannibal pushed gently on Will’s shoulders and he sank onto the chair behind him. Then the older man knelt in front of him and took his cock in his mouth. Not two minutes later and Will came hard, groaning, his head falling back.

“Now Will, didn’t I tell you that you would love this?”

Will couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter - Frederick Chilton comes in. And he's not the nicest guy...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will gets roughed up by Chilton, there's lots of forcing, belting, hitting.

It had been two weeks since Will had seen Hannibal. The psychiatrist had never given Will his phone number and he hadn’t been into the Black Stag at all. When Will had left his home, giddy and exhilarated at midnight after their dinner, Hannibal had made no mention of a second visit. His demeanour had implied that he wanted to see more of Will but no further invitation for Will to come round to visit had been given. Plus, Will didn’t think Hannibal would approve of him just ‘dropping in’.

So Will whiled away his time focusing on his monotonous work at the Black Stag. He was currently on a break from studying psychology. Whilst he loved the course work and the subject, it took up too much of his time. He still had to pay rent and even though he lived in a crummy apartment above the Black Stag, nothing in this town was cheap. While he’d been studying he’d had to rely on taking up offers from men who’d popped into the bar. Taking them upstairs when his shift finished for a bit of extra cash. He hadn’t had to do that in a while but two things had recently happened that had got him thinking about it again. His boss at the Black Stag, who was unfortunately also his landlord, had at the same time, put up his rent and lowered his pay.

Will leant on the deserted bar of the Black Stag and ran his hands through his curly dark hair. If he did nothing then he’d be $300 short on the end of the month. And that was if he didn’t buy any food between now and then. He’d used to have a regular, a man named Frederick Chilton, who would come into the bar and wait for him to close up. They’d go upstairs and Chilton would fuck him roughly for a good hour or so before paying him $200 and walking out. It was never enjoyable for him, Chilton was always far too harsh. But he always paid well and he always paid in cash.

Will was jolted out of his thoughts when the front door opened, the bell jingling. His heart jumped into his throat expecting to see Hannibal but he was almost astonished to see Frederick Chilton. Speak of the devil and he shall appear…

“Frederick,” Will murmured, trying his best to be coy, his eyes fluttering down to the bar and then back up at the older man. “I haven’t seen you in here for a while.”

“Well since you told me you weren’t working my kind of business for a while I thought it best I didn’t come in,” Chilton said, taking a seat at the bar.

Will automatically poured him a glass of white wine and placed it in front of him.

“So why did you come in tonight?” Will asked, keeping his tone soft.

“I’d driven past a few times, noticed the bar was empty. Figured you might be in need of some extra money,” Chilton said. “I know you rely a little too much on your tips.”

Will ducked his head and nodded.

“Ah I see nothing’s changed then,” Chilton said. He swirled the wine in the glass, took a sip, then asked, “How much do you need?”

“I…uh, I need $300,” Will sighed. “$400 if you’re in the mood to be generous.”

Chilton nodded, took another gulp of wine and considered Will’s words. “$400? I don’t really think that’s about me being generous. I think that’s more about _you_ being generous. Don’t you think? What will you let me do?”

“The…the usual?” Will suggested. The ‘usual’ was at least one blow job if not two and a good, hard fuck. It also frequently entailed Chilton slapping him a few times, the older man liked a bit of blood on Will before they got down and dirty. Will didn’t mind that much really. Cuts and bruises healed after all. He’d just tell his boss was that he’d fallen down the stairs or been mugged.

“Oh Will, I think you’re a bit smarter than that, aren’t you?” Chilton grinned at him. “You know full well I’m going to want to do a little bit more than the fucking usual if you want me to pay you $400 for it. In fact for $400 you might be wanting to tell your boss now that you probably won’t be able to work tomorrow.”

“I…I can do that Frederick,” Will said, feeling a little dizzy. He didn’t have much in the way of a choice though. He had to pay his rent in a week. One night of pain would at least be worth not getting evicted and losing his job.

“Well then, why don’t you just close up now then? It’s almost ten-thirty. I can’t imagine too many people will be coming in now. Tell your boss you came down with something.”

“O-okay,” Will said nodding. He quickly wiped down the bar – he’d only had two patrons tonight, there wasn’t really anything to clean up – before locking the front door and drawing the shade down. Then he grabbed his keys and the two of them went through the ‘Staff Only’ door at the back of bar and up the stairs to Will’s apartment. Will closed the front door behind them and Chilton walked straight into his bedroom. Will took a deep breath before following him in.

And suddenly he was floored when Chilton backhanded him so hard across his face that he fell to his hands and knees. He knew better than to protest though as Chilton grabbed his hair and forced him to look up.

“I think you know you’re not on the same level as me, so why should you be standing up in my presence?” Chilton snarled at him.

“Yes sir, sorry sir,” Will whispered, keeping his eyes downcast.

“That’s better,” Chilton said before dragging him over to the bed by his hair. Will couldn’t help the cry of pain that escaped his lips at the sting in his scalp but made no other sound as Chilton dumped him at the foot of his bed. Chilton sat down on the edge of his bed. “Time to put that beautiful mouth to work. Suck me. Now.”

Will swallowed thickly and nodded. He unbuckled Chilton’s belt and unzipped his pants with shaking fingers. Chilton was already hard. He started to gently lick the tip of Chilton’s length but stopped when Chilton hit him again. His cheekbone throbbed already – there’d be a great bruise there tomorrow.

“I said suck. Do you really want me to punish you or are you going to be good?” Chilton asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“I’ll be good,” Will replied immediately. He took Chilton’s length in his mouth and gave him a blow job for all he was worth. Chilton kept his hand fisted in Will’s hair and started tugging him forwards and backwards, his cock hitting the back of Will’s throat, making him choke. Will tried holding his breath or breathing through his nose while Chilton held him in his tight grasp, otherwise he would’ve suffocated. Finally he could tell Chilton was coming close, the older man pulled on his hair even more and thrust harder and harder before finally cumming in Will’s mouth. He pulled his cock out of Will’s mouth and slapped him gently on the cheek a couple times, murmuring, “Well done.” The slaps wouldn’t normally have hurt him but after Chilton’s backhanded hits, his cheek was tender and Will winced.

“You sore already?” Chilton drawled with a grin, leaning back on Will’s bed.

Will wasn’t sure how to reply. It was the same as when Hannibal had asked him that question. Should he say no and get even more pain than he’d bargained for? Or should he say yes and get beaten purely for the fun of it? Even though Hannibal was still a new acquaintance, Will had trusted him far more than he’d ever trusted Chilton. Instead he simply said nothing, but trained his eyes on the floor.

“No answer?” Chilton said happily. “Well I guess we had better change that then.”

Without any warning he punched Will across the face, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Will coughed, spat out the blood that immediately pooled in his mouth. He heard Chilton standing up and he pushed himself to his hands and knees before he was sent flying to the floor again by a well-aimed kick to his ribs. Will gasped. The pain was intense. He felt like he couldn’t breathe and it was made infinitely worse when Chilton kicked him again and again a third time. Will held a hand up in Chilton’s direction and panted, struggling to breathe. He looked up at Chilton, he couldn’t speak for the moment but he hoped his expression was convincing enough to make Chilton stop kicking him at least. Instead Chilton was unbuckling his belt. He pulled it free of his pants and held it by the holed end, letting the buckle end drag on the floor.

“If you weren’t sore before my boy, you will be soon,” Chilton said with a grin.

Will had just enough time to cover his head before the buckle end of the belt landed across his shoulders. He curled up into a ball on the floor as Chilton whipped him mercilessly with the belt. It landed mainly over his back and shoulders, Chilton wasn’t as interested in bringing him pleasure when he was punishing him the way that Hannibal was. All Chilton wanted to do was bring him pain. Will just thanked God that he was still dressed in his thick cotton shirt as the belt continued to land heavily over him.

Chilton finally stopped and dropped the belt to the floor. Through a haze of pain, Will heard it land on the floorboards and he lowered his arms, feeling waves of pain hit him from his beaten shoulders.

“Now get your goddamn clothes off and get onto this fucking bed. Time for me to get my money’s worth,” Chilton ordered, toeing off his shoes.

Will managed to get his knees under him but when he tried to push himself up with his hands, his elbows buckled. His back was a world of pain; he could feel blood dripping along his side and gaps in his shirt from where the belt had managed to cut through.

“I said, get up,” Chilton said, getting angrier.

“I’m…trying,” Will said through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse. He tried to get up again but fell back down to the floor with a pained groan.

“I see you need some help there my boy, here, let me,” Chilton said. Will tried again unsuccessfully to stand up but Chilton grabbed him by his hair again and dragged him over to the bed. Soon his clothes were roughly pulled off and he was shoved face first onto the bed. Will was close to passing out from the pain of the whipping and, after Chilton hastily stretched him and then thrust in, the agony of it hit him and he blacked out.

 

* * *

 

 

Will came around momentarily to see Chilton dressing next to his bed. His right eye was swelling already and his vision was hazy but he saw Chilton pull out his wallet and place a few notes on his bedside table.

“$200 as promised,” Chilton said, putting his wallet back in his pocket.

“Four…” Will whispered.

“What was that my boy?” Chilton asked, lifting an eyebrow innocently.

“Four…hundred.”

“Maybe. If you hadn’t passed out on me. Do you know how much fun it is to fuck a lifeless body? It’s like a car with a cracked radiator, it’ll get you started but you have a feeling it won’t last the distance,” Chilton said. He ran his fingers through Will’s hair making Will wince at the pain in his scalp after being dragged around the room by his dark locks. “See you soon my boy.”

Will didn’t even have the strength to keep his eyes open at that point. Within minutes he was passed out again, hoping that Chilton had just left him be. He didn’t even want to start thinking about how he was going to pay rent. At least he was only $100 short for the month now. But that was still if he didn’t eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we're in the mood for a good dose of hurt/comfort. Where's our good Dr Lecter when we need him?


	7. Chapter 7

Will only ended up taking one day off from work. Two days after Frederick Chilton’s visit, he was back behind the bar at the Black Stag hoping – wishing – that Hannibal would make an appearance. The bar was empty thankfully and he’d painfully dragged a barstool back so he could sit down. It wasn’t necessarily good form but he didn’t think he’d be attracting any customers right now anyway.

His right eye was completely surrounded by dark bruises, but fortunately wasn’t swollen shut anymore. Both of his cheekbones were bruised and the right side of his jaw was shaded blue as well. But it was his ribs, back and shoulders that were giving him the worst pain right now. He was hoping that his ribs were only bruised, cracked at most, but not broken. His whole right side was a horrible shade of purple. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move around, it hurt to do practically everything. Then there was his back. It was covered from his shoulders to his hips in bruises and cuts from the belt. The buckle especially had done a lot of damage when Chilton whipped him ferociously with it. He didn’t think anything needed stitches but, to be honest, all he'd done between Chilton’s vicious beating and his first shift back at the bar was sleep and try to heal.

Will heard the door open but didn’t raise his head. He didn’t want to scare off the potential patron.

“What can I get you?” he asked hoarsely, his voice still sore from Chilton basically raping his throat.

“Shiraz please, Will.”

Will looked up to see Hannibal’s look of shock when his dark eyes saw Will’s bruised face. He immediately lowered his gaze again. He crouched down behind the bar to get the bottle of red wine. Normally he’d just lean over but his back was in agony. He’d wanted to buy some painkillers but he just couldn’t spare the money. He saw Hannibal take a seat at the bar out of the corner of his eye. Now he just had to get the glass. Unfortunately they were hanging above the bar. And Will was in trouble. He wouldn’t be able to reach it with his right hand thanks to that bruising on his ribs. But on the other hand Chilton’s belt buckle had struck his left shoulder far too many times. But he’d rather use his left than his right so he reached up, gritting his teeth at the pain to get Hannibal’s glass. He stifled a gasp when he placed the glass on the bar. But when he reached for the bottle with slightly shaking fingers, Hannibal placed his hand on top of Will’s.

“Will, you’re hurt.” It wasn’t a question. So technically Will didn’t have to answer. So he merely nodded gently, feeling the bruising on the back of his neck before sliding his hand gently out from under Hannibal’s. He poured Hannibal’s red wine before putting the bottle back under the bar and sitting back down on his own stool.

“Will, what happened?” Hannibal asked gently.

“I…nothing happened Hannibal,” Will replied quietly.

“I understand you don’t want to talk about it right now Will,” Hannibal said. “But I feel you need to know you have blood on the back of your shirt.”

Will didn’t even know what to think at that point. One of the cuts from the belt buckle must have reopened. His mind was numb right now. Frederick Chilton often had that effect on him.

“Tell me what happened, Will,” Hannibal said, his voice grew more commanding but didn’t grow angry. “Tell me now.”

In Will’s exhausted, pained state, following Hannibal’s orders came more naturally and easily than trying to disobey so, slowly at first, he told the psychiatrist.  
“I…I needed money. My landlord upped my rent. And since he’s a complete dick and also my boss here, cut my pay. So I needed $300 by the end of the month to make sure I could pay my rent. That was the minimum I needed. So when an…an old acquaintance of mine came into the bar the night before last I thought I’d take him up on his offer.”

“What was his offer?”

“To fuck me and pay for it.”

“Language, Will.” Hannibal almost felt bad when he saw Will flinch, expecting to be slapped for swearing. But Hannibal wouldn’t be cruel enough to do so when his beautiful boy was already so bruised and hurt. And marked by another man as well. That thought alone made Hannibal’s blood boil, but he maintained his calm demeanor not wanting to intimidate Will. “Keep going Will.”

“So I said yes. I closed up the bar early, it was deserted anyway, and we went upstairs to my apartment. He asked me how much money I needed. I said $300 and $400 if he was being generous. At least with $400 I’d be able to buy food for the rest of the month. He’s always been rough. And violent. I figured he would be both of those things I just didn’t…expect it to be…”

“Quite so bad?” Hannibal offered when Will trailed off. Will nodded in agreement.

“Giving him head and letting him fuck me”- Will flinched again when he swore but Hannibal was silent –“was fine but it was…everything else.”

“What did he do to you?” Hannibal asked. “Don’t forget Will, before I was a psychiatrist, I was a surgeon. If you have any injuries that need tending, I can help.”

“Thank you s-sir,” Will stammered, overcome with how caring the older man was. “He went to town on my face, kicked me in the ribs too many times then he…he whipped me with his belt.”

“I see,” Hannibal said, nodding, draining his wine glass. “With the buckle?”

Will nodded.

“What time do you finish tonight, Will?” Hannibal asked.

Will glanced at his watch. “In fifteen minutes.”

“Let me take you back to my home. Tend to your wounds.”

Will didn’t have the strength to argue. He nodded again and Hannibal handed him his usual twenty dollar bill for the wine. The two of them sat there for the next ten minutes in silence until five minutes to eleven. Then Will picked up Hannibal’s wine glass and put it in the dishwasher under the bar. He grabbed his personal effects and his jacket then started to drag the barstool back to its rightful place.

“Will, please let me.” Will stepped aside to let Hannibal carry the stool back to the other side of the bar. Then they walked outside. Hannibal stood patiently while Will locked up the front door. “I’m parked just here,” Hannibal said, gesturing to a huge, impressive and imposing Bentley. He opened the passenger side door for Will who got in and gingerly leaned back on the seat with a barely contained hiss. Hannibal also got in and started the car. He drove very sedately back down the road towards his home before parking and letting Will inside. Hannibal’s home was warm and inviting. Whilst the first time he’d arrived here Will had felt fear and trepidation, this time it felt like relief hit him as soon as he crossed the threshold.

“Sit down here,” Hannibal said, gesturing to the chairs at his dining table before walking off to another part of the house. He returned speedily with a leather bag that he placed on the table. “Let me help you with your jacket.”

Hannibal helped Will out of his jacket, which only elicited a handful of sharp inhales.

“Now your shirt.”

Will unbuttoned his shirt and Hannibal helped him with that too. What Hannibal saw now almost made him gasp. Will’s back was an absolutely mess. Angry red and purple bruises crisscrossed his skin. Cuts were haphazardly strewn, there was no thought as to the placement of strokes which was something Hannibal always considered when laying into someone's rear. Some of the cuts were oozing small trickles of blood, having reopened when he’d undressed just then. Larger, darker bruises abounded, most probably from the belt’s buckle. There were only a few patches of pale skin that weren’t marked. The belt had wrapped over his shoulders and around his sides, making almost all upper body movement painful. Then there was the dark purple on Will’s ribs.

“My God Will. Who did this to you?”

“I…I don’t want to say,” Will replied quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because…I…I asked for it. It’s my fault.”

“You know I would never hurt you like this,” Hannibal promised.

“I know,” Will whispered in response, feeling a hundred different emotions course through him at once.

“Let me fix this,” Hannibal said, reaching for his supplies. “I need to clean the cuts. The solution should not hurt too much but prepare yourself nonetheless.”  
Will nodded. He heard Hannibal open the bottle of cleansing solution before he felt a damp piece of gauze press gently on an open cut on his shoulder blade. He gasped quietly and bit his lip as Hannibal dabbed the wound before moving onto the next cut, on his spine.

“Who did this to you Will?” Hannibal asked again, moving to a particularly painful cut on his left side. Will’s breath hitched as the gauze pressed into and around the wound, he clutched the edge of Hannibal’s dining table for support. “Who?”

“Hannibal don’t make me, please,” Will said.

“Why not?” Hannibal asked. His tone was growing firm but wasn’t harsh at all.

“Because I need him,” Will finally answered.

Hannibal cleansed the last cut, low on Will’s back, before replying. “You need this?” he asked softly.

“No! That’s…” Will drifted off trying to formulate his answer. “I needed his money.” Will dropped his head, wincing as the movement pulled on his shoulders and neck, but he couldn’t face Hannibal after those words.

Hannibal was silent for a moment then he said, “I’ll bandage these. You don’t need stitches but I don’t want you to keep reopening them.”

“T-thank you sir,” Will whispered in response, keeping his gaze lowered. He heard Hannibal pull out more objects from his leather bag before working quickly, covering Will’s cuts with adhesive bandages.

“Those cuts are taken care of,” Hannibal said, leaning back in his chair. “Now I need to look at your ribs.”

Will nodded, he didn’t trust his voice right now. Hannibal stood up and sat on Will’s other side, closest to his black and blue, bruised ribs. He sighed as he took in the damage inflicted on his beautiful boy.

“I’m s-sorry sir,” Will said, picking up on Hannibal’s rising anger and mistakenly believing it was directed at him. He cowered slightly in the chair. He was so hurt and sore and exhausted at the moment, he couldn’t take any more abuse right now. “Please…I’m s-so sorry.”

“Will, relax please,” Hannibal implored. “I am not angry at you. Whilst I do relish hurting you, seeing you in pain, hearing you gasp in agony”- Will flinched at his words –“I would always give you something to enjoy as well. Last time you were here, I may have hurt you but I also pleasured you, yes?”

“Y-yes,” Will stammered.

“And this man, the one who did this,” Hannibal said, grazing a finger down Will’s bruised side making the younger whimper, “did he offer you any pleasure?”

“No,” Will replied.

“So he hurt you, took from you what he wanted and left you with not one ounce of pleasure to speak of?”

“Yes…b-but he still…”

“Still what?”

“He still…p-paid me,” Will said sadly, hating himself with every word he spoke.

“The full amount?”

“N-no. Only half,” Will murmured.

“So how were you expecting to pay your rent, if you were still down at least $100?”

“I d-don’t know Hannibal,” Will replied wearily. “I figured I’d work something out with my landlord.”

“Something like this?” Hannibal asked gesturing at Will’s broken, wounded body. Will nodded. “No. You will not. I will give you the money, Will.”

Will finally looked up at that, bright blue eyes glassy and his bruised cheeks streaked with tears. “N-no, please Hannibal, I couldn’t take your money. I haven’t done anything to…to…”

“To earn it?” Hannibal supplied.

Will nodded.

“That doesn’t concern me right now,” Hannibal said. “What concerns me is you. I like you Will. And I want you to be mine. No one else’s. At least for right now.”

Will didn’t have the strength to ask what he meant by that last sentence at the moment so instead he just nodded his assent.

“I’ll check your ribs now. I need to press down on them to find out if they are broken or cracked. I’m hoping they’re just bruised. This will hurt though. Would you like a drink?”

“Yes please,” Will said before quickly adding, “sir.”

Hannibal stood up and returned moments later with a glass of brown liquid. “Drink.”

Will picked the glass up and drained it, squeezing his eyes shut as the whiskey burned its way down. He immediately felt a little dizzy, probably due to his missed breakfast and lunch today – all he’d eaten was nuts from the bar.

“Are you ready, Will? I will be as quick as I can,” Hannibal said.

Will nodded, moving his arm out of the way and onto the dining table before placing his head on his folded arms. “Do it,” he whispered.

Hannibal’s fingers pressed on Will’s ribs and he felt the boy flinch violently under his touch, gasping at the pain. Hannibal pushed his concerns for the boy out of his mind for the minute, only focusing on feeling his ribs under his skin. He moved to an especially dark area and Will cried in pain, sobbing into his folded arms. Hannibal finally finished and straightened. He placed a hand on Will’s shoulder, frowning when Will started.

“I’m done,” he said softly. “They’re not broken. A few of them are probably cracked. You should be fine for the moment without them being wrapped. That would probably be too painful for you right now without adequate painkillers.”

Will straightened as well, albeit much more slower than Hannibal. He placed a hand over his bruised ribs. “Thank you sir,” he said.

“You haven’t eaten today have you?”

“No sir.”

“I will make you something. First, let me help you with your shirt.”

Hannibal helped Will back into his shirt with less gasps of pain than he’d made getting out of it. At least that was a step in the right direction. Then Hannibal helped him into a comfortable armchair in his lavish living room. Before he left, Will clutched his wrist and looked up, his eyes dull from pain and exhaustion but filled with appreciation and hope.

“Hannibal? Can I…can I stay here tonight? Please s-sir?”

“Of course you may Will,” Hannibal said with a smile. “Now, please wait here. I will have dinner ready very soon, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Will said. He let go of Hannibal’s wrist and leaned against the arm of the couch, trying to force his aches and pains away. Whilst his back and shoulders still throbbed from the whipping Chilton had given him and his ribs reminded him every time he took a breath, he was feeling infinitely better than he had just over an hour ago before Hannibal had come in. And it wasn’t just the man’s medical ministrations. Hannibal had calmed him, made him feel safe and protected. And, when he started to smell the cooking wafting from the kitchen, soon Hannibal would have him fed. Will allowed himself a small smile, even as the movement tugged on bruises, yes, he almost felt loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...what would happen if Hannibal and Frederick Chilton came face to face? Could there be repercussions for Will if Hannibal asserted his ownership of Will...?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait! Here we go...Hannibal and Chilton come face to face as they realize they both want Will. Chilton isn't very happy about it and neither is Hannibal. Poor Will is going to get caught in the crossfire pretty soon...

Will had spent that night at Hannibal’s. He had eaten Hannibal’s delicious, quickly prepared dinner and had passed out in one of the psychiatrist’s guest bedrooms. The man hadn’t disturbed him the following day and he’d slept until noon. Will had woken slowly and Hannibal had made him breakfast at one o’clock in the afternoon. The older man had checked his bandages then driven him back to the Black Stag so he could work his night shift. Hannibal promised that he would return to visit him later in the week and Will was beyond grateful when Hannibal had pressed $300 into his hands. But he also felt the need to make reparations immediately.

“Hannibal I can’t pay you back right now,” he’d protested that afternoon in Hannibal’s car.

“I know Will. But I won’t give you money for your services. I will give you money because I know you need it.”

“But I…I can repay you in another way,” Will said, while they were sitting in the Bentley. He’d reached over to the psychiatrist’s lap but Hannibal grasped his wrists.

“No, Will.”

“Please, let me repay you,” Will insisted. But Hannibal tugged on his wrists, in turn pulling on his injured shoulders which made Will hiss with pain.

“Will, you are still in pain,” Hannibal said, frowning. “I won’t ask this of you while you are hurt. Especially if your agony has been caused by another man.”

Will went limp in the passenger seat. It wasn’t as if he’d had that conversation with Hannibal yet, but he still felt like he’d betrayed him when he’d gone upstairs with Frederick Chilton. “I….Hannibal…I’m sorry I…I didn’t have a choice,” he finished lamely when he realized Hannibal wasn’t going to cut in.

“Will, you always have a choice. You could come to me.”

“But Hannibal I…I couldn’t just _drop in_ on you,” Will argued, starting to get a little heated. “I’d only just met you. I couldn’t knock on your door, asking for money.”

Hannibal sighed in the driver’s seat next to him and Will leaned back in his own seat, wincing and gritting his teeth as the pain in his back flared up. “No. I suppose you couldn’t,” Hannibal finally said. “From this point on though, I am here. Remember that.”

“I will.”

Hannibal sighed deeply, Will thought he looked like he was considering something. Finally he pulled out his wallet again and produced a business card. He handed it to Will.

“Take this. If your mystery man calls in again, you _call me_. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” Will said, taking the business card, nodding.

“Go on then,” Hannibal said, gesturing to the Black Stag. “If your injuries prove too troublesome for you to attend to then please _drop in_. I can help you. I _want_ to.”

“Thank you,” Will said. “See you soon.”

Will got out of the car and gently closed the door before slipping into the Black Stag. Hannibal sighed again and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before putting the big automobile into gear. “And I won’t have some other man hurting you,” he murmured under his breath. “I will be the one to hurt you. And you will like it.”

* * *

 

The next five nights were uneventful for Will. Neither Hannibal nor Frederick came into the Black Stag. He paid his surprised landlord early and managed to stock his apartment’s bare pantry shelves with some essentials. On the sixth night, Frederick Chilton walked into the bar.

“Will, how are you feeling?” he drawled, taking a seat at the bar.

“Fine,” Will replied calmly. After all, he couldn’t necessarily get angry with Frederick for what he’d done, he asked for it.

“Are you still hurt?” Frederick said as Will placed a glass of white wine in front of him.

“Getting better every day,” Will answered nonchalantly, wiping down the bar. Truth was while the cuts were healing well on his back, the bruises were still quite painful. He’d need at least another week before they finally vanished. Plus his ribs weren’t as debilitating as they had first been but they continued to make themselves known with every breath and stretch.

“Are you ready for round two then?” Frederick asked, grinning over his white wine.

Will took a deep breath and looked up, right at Chilton. He held eye contact for a beat before simply saying, “No.” Then he went back to tidying the bar.

“And why would that be? Is there someone else? Someone I should worry about?”

“I think the only person I have to worry about is _you_ Frederick,” Will said boldly. The bar was, as usual empty of patrons this late in the evening. Will didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse about Frederick being here now.

“Are you talking back to me boy?” Frederick said, his tone getting dangerously low.

“I’m not your boy, Frederick,” Will said softly with a sigh. He truly didn’t want to rile the man up. He was still injured and he didn’t need any more wounds to add to his growing pile. All he wanted was for Chilton to just back off.

“Hmm, so you say,” Frederick said, taking a sip of his wine. He swirled it around in the glass before placing it back on the bar.

“So I say,” Will murmured.

He walked out from behind the bar to start tidying the tables before he closed up. But when he walked back towards the bar to get a fresh cloth, Frederick grabbed him by his collar.

“You’ve been very rude with me tonight, Will,” Frederick said, jerking him backwards. Will felt and heard his collar rip slightly under Chilton’s rough ministrations.

“If you don’t like the service here, there’s plenty of other bars around for you,” Will said evenly, albeit through gritted teeth.

“You know what? I _don’t_ like the service here,” Chilton replied. “In fact, the service here is _abysmal_. And I think maybe you have something to do with that.”

“Frederick, I’m not interested in anything you have to offer me. The only thing I have to offer you right now is white wine and you just finished the bottle,” Will replied. “So maybe it’s time for you to leave.”

“I’ll decide when I leave. Isn’t the customer always right?” Frederick asked. He stood up, his grip still tight on Will’s collar.

“Frederick, what do you want?” Will asked resignedly.

“What I’ve always wanted, my sweet thing, _you_.”

“Well you can’t have me. You were right. There _is_ someone else,” Will said. He knew he’d pay for this, but he assumed Chilton wouldn’t be crazy enough to start beating on him right here in the bar. Sure, it was empty on a weeknight, but they had cameras up.

He assumed wrong.

Chilton let go of his collar and a split second later punched him right across the mouth. Will wasn’t expecting the hit at all and landed heavily on the floor on his hands and knees, his jaw throbbing. His mouth filled with blood and he spat it out.

“Frederick, don’t do this,” Will said. He stood up and wiped the blood from his chin. His lip was split and kept trickling a steady stream of the viscous crimson liquid.

“Did I say you could stand up?” Chilton said, his voice was menacing.

“What gives you the _right_ for god’s sake?” Will almost shouted in reply. “You’re not paying me for my goddamn time right now! You can’t just order me around! Especially when you’re not fucking paying.”

Chilton pulled out his wallet and a twenty-dollar bill. He slammed it down onto the bar. Will glanced at the note and back to Chilton, getting angrier and angrier with each passing moment.

“Now I’m paying. Get on your _goddamn knees_ and suck me off, you worthless little shit,” Chilton growled.

“What the fuck Frederick? Twenty bucks? That buys your glass of wine and a good tip. Get out of the bar. _Now_ ,” Will said, pointing to the door.

Chilton grabbed him so quickly Will didn’t even see it coming. He seized a fistful of Will’s hair and pushed him roughly to his knees.

“Suck me. Now.”

“No,” Will ground out through gritted teeth. Chilton jerked on his hair, making Will wince.

“You want me to belt you again?” Chilton asked. “I said, suck me off.”

“I said, no,” Will repeated.

“So we have to do this the hard way then?” Chilton replied. He let go of Will’s hair but grabbed Will’s chin, forcing his fingers into his cheeks to open his mouth. Will brought up his hands to try to stop Chilton. While Will struggled gamely, Chilton punched him again, this time on his cheekbone. Will’s head snapped to the side and he fell forwards onto his hands. He heard Chilton unbuckling his belt but he was seeing stars and, without any warning Chilton whipped the belt down onto Will’s back.

The one strike made Will cry out as it reawakened the pain of all the healing strokes, bruises and cuts. Chilton used the opportunity to dig his fingers painfully into Will’s cheeks to open his mouth. Will knew how this was going to end. He heard Chilton unzipping his fly but he was still dazed from Chilton’s punch and the line of fire across his spine.

Suddenly the door to the bar opened and Frederick let him go. Will fell onto his hands and knees again, gasping for breath. His face ached considerably from Chilton’s punches and his back was in agony.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Will looked up to see Hannibal standing in the doorway staring straight at Chilton. What would Hannibal think of him right now? It hadn’t even been a week since Hannibal had taken care of him after Chilton’s last visit. Would Hannibal think he wanted more of what Chilton was offering? Will dropped his eyes to the floor, afraid to look at either man.

“The bar is closed,” Chilton said gruffly.

“Doesn’t look closed. The door is unlocked,” Hannibal replied calmly. “What are you doing?”

Chilton looked down, at Will cowering on the floor, at the belt in his hand then looked back up to Hannibal. “Why do you care? If you’re after a drink, there’s a much better bar down the road. _Much_ better service,” he added, and Will winced at his words. Chilton took a closer look as Hannibal moved further into the bar. “Dr Lecter?”

“Ah you remember me,” Hannibal said with a smile. “Dr Chilton.”

“You remember me,” Chilton said. He couldn’t help the grin that spread his lips.

“You could say that,” Hannibal replied. “What are you doing?” he repeated a third time.

“Merely teaching this insolent brat a lesson in respect,” Chilton said. He had done up his fly when Hannibal had walked in and he was now replacing his belt. “You can join if you like.”

“No I don’t think I will,” Hannibal said, looking down at Will.

Will wiped blood away from his split lip and looked up at Hannibal, frowning. What the hell was he doing? Why couldn’t he just tell Chilton to fuck off and leave him in peace? All Will wanted to do was go with Hannibal. He wanted Hannibal to tend to his new wounds and make him feel better. Right now, after the punches to his head, he wasn’t up to playing any mind games with these two.

“I think he’s had enough, don’t you?” Hannibal said to Chilton in a congenial way, his tone almost friendly.

“You’re damn right I’ve had enough,” Will groaned. Ignoring the other two, he pushed himself to his feet. “You need to leave. Now,” he said to Chilton.

“You sure you don’t want a matching one on the other side?” Chilton asked, his hand shooting out to stroke the red skin on Will’s cheekbone. Will jerked his head away, wavering slightly as the rapid movement made him dizzy. He grabbed the edge of the bar to keep his balance.

“I said _leave_ ,” Will replied, going for more forceful but succeeding in sounding even more defeated. “Please, just leave me alone. I don’t want you. I want to be with…” Will’s eyes flickered to Hannibal and then to the floor. “I just want to be alone.”

“Ah so there is someone else then,” Chilton said dramatically his eyes widening. “And it’s you, Dr Lecter?”

“I believe the boy asked you to leave Dr Chilton. You have already hurt him more than necessary,” Hannibal said firmly. Oh, how he wished to be slicing into Chilton’s sautéed liver right about now.

“And you won’t share him with me then I take it?” Chilton said. He rounded on Will who backed away slightly. “His mouth is divine. I suppose I wouldn’t want to share that either. And boy if he isn’t the best fuck I’ve had in a long time.”

“Shut up Chilton,” Will said, his eyes on the floor.

“Have you taken him yet?” Chilton asked Hannibal who was silent. “You haven’t? That’s a shame then isn’t it?”

“Fuck off Chilton,” Will said, his eyes still downcast. He couldn’t bear to look Hannibal in the eye right now what with Chilton’s monologue.

“Don’t you take that tone with me boy,” Chilton said, his voice growing dangerous.

“Will wants you to leave Dr Chilton,” Hannibal said calmly. “I suggest you do just that.”

“Well then,” Chilton said, “I suppose I’ll leave you two to it.” He reached out a hand making Will flinch but he just stroked his fingers through Will’s hair. “Have a good night,” he added.

Will closed his eyes as held onto the bar, imagining it was Hannibal’s fingers in his hair and not Chilton’s. The touch felt soft and affectionate and he was having a hard time reconciling it with Chilton’s previous blows. Chilton seemed to realize that too as he dropped his hand to Will’s shoulder heavily making Will gasp softly as Chilton squeezed his healing wounds.

“I’ll be in soon Will, to see how you’re doing,” Chilton said, patting him roughly on his shoulder, the weight of his hand pushing Will downwards. Will tried to shrug him off but couldn’t. “And make sure you get your nice Dr Lecter to check out your back. And your ribs. I seem to remember doing a number on those last time I was here.”

With that Chilton rapidly lowered his hand from Will’s shoulder and, without warning, punched him ferociously in his cracked and bruised ribs. Will cried out and doubled over, falling painfully to his knees on the hard floor, his arms wrapped around his midsection. He was dimly aware of Chilton leaving the bar and he thought he heard the sound of the lock clicking on the front door but his vision was blurring. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get anywhere near enough air into his lungs. His ribs were agonizing, he felt like an inescapable weight was pressing into his side.

“Will,” breathed a voice next to him. He felt an arm wrap gently around his shoulders. “Try to breathe. Try for me Will.”

After what felt like an eternity, the pain in his ribs lessened slightly and Will took a shallow breath in, wincing as that one tiny movement brought a new wave of pain from his side. He exhaled and breathed in again, this time he was ready for the pain but it was slightly less than it had been before. With each breath, the agony stemming from his ribs died down. Will opened his eyes when it became bearable.

“Is he gone?” he asked.

“For now,” Hannibal replied. “Come back to my home.”

“Alright,” Will replied. “Help me up?”

“Of course Will,” Hannibal said. He gently grasped Will around his left side and lifted him to his feet, not without a few gasps and flinches on Will’s part. “Can you walk?”

“I…I don’t know,” Will replied. “But I need my keys,” he said, holding onto the bar to keep him upright. “They’re on the shelf under the till.” He kept his eyes on the bar, focusing on anything other than his current wellbeing. He heard Hannibal pick up the keys before he wrapped an arm around Will again.

“I’m parked outside,” Hannibal said.

 

* * *

 

 

They drove in silence back to Hannibal’s home and, once again, Will found himself seated at Hannibal’s dining table with the psychiatrist’s medicine bag open next to him. Hannibal once again excruciatingly checked his ribs before checking his back. Luckily the one strike from Chilton’s belt hadn’t opened up any cuts but his face would be darkly bruised very soon from the blows Chilton had landed. Hannibal helped him up again and they moved into the warm, inviting lounge room.

“Do you want anything Will?” Hannibal asked him.

“You know him. Frederick Chilton,” Will replied. It wasn’t a question.

“I do,” Hannibal replied. “He hurt you before.”

Will nodded. “He paid me before.”

“Did he pay you this time?” Hannibal asked.

“I thought you were going to…” Will trailed off. He wasn’t sure if he should finish that sentence.

“Finish your sentence Will.”

“I thought…that you were going to join in with him,” Will said, his gaze dropping to Hannibal’s plush carpeting.

“Why would think that Will?”

“Because you…you didn’t step in. You didn’t stop him. You didn’t make him leave,” Will finally answered after a pause.

“I wanted _you_ to make him leave,” Hannibal replied.

“What? And how would I be able to do that Hannibal?” Will asked, his tone getting rough with anger.

Hannibal allowed him the infraction of speaking to him so rudely. It would not do to punish him now, when he was hurt and afraid. “I will not always be there to fight your battles Will. You need to be able to do it on your own. I wanted to see you try.”

“But I…I couldn’t do it,” Will stammered, a tear slipping down his cheek. He wiped it away, wincing at the bruises on his cheekbone.

“No you couldn’t,” Hannibal agreed. “Maybe you will have better luck next time. Or maybe you will do what I say next time and call me when Dr Chilton comes in. I told you to do that and you disobeyed me. For the moment I’ll let it slide. Do you want to go to sleep?”

“Yes,” Will nodded, trying to ignore the fear that was creeping into him at Hannibal’s words. It was no use trying to argue with him right now about Chilton. He was too exhausted.

“Come to the bedroom then,” Hannibal said, offering Will his arm to help him up.

He’d been angry when he’d seen Chilton in the Black Stag. And even angrier when he saw Chilton abuse Will in front of him. Will hadn’t called him or messaged him. Will had let Chilton do these things to him. He only had himself to blame for the state he was in now. But Hannibal needed to do something about Chilton. Will was his now, not Frederick Chilton’s. And both Will and Frederick Chilton needed to know that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing of the bedroom variety happens in this chapter unfortunately for those hanging out for it. But there is a delicious double helping of angst and hurt/comfort to keep you going. I'll hopefully post another chapter tomorrow that will have that most scrumptious smut going on...
> 
> But Hannibal and Will really needed to feel their feelings after the last chapter. Hannibal after all was a bit of a jealous dick...

After Will was safely ensconced in Hannibal’s guest room, the psychiatrist wandered to his kitchen to pour himself a glass of brandy. Sipping on it in front of the fire, he pondered Will and Frederick Chilton’s relationship. Maybe he’d been too harsh on Will earlier, he thought, swirling the brandy around in the glass. Maybe he should’ve given Will the benefit of the doubt. He clearly didn’t like Chilton. He didn’t like his treatment at the hands of Chilton. And he certainly wasn’t attracted to Chilton that much was abundantly clear.

But he was _afraid_ of Frederick Chilton.

Chilton had that quiet confidence in regards to Will that came with the knowledge that he could have him beaten and bloody on the floor in less than a minute. And Will was still healing from his previous encounter with Chilton. Hannibal knew his ribs would be causing him a good deal of pain right now. Any injuries in that region were almost inescapably agonizing for a while. Every breath would stretch the intercostal muscles pulling on cracked bones, sending out hot sparks of pain. Every movement would pull on the bruised skin and battered nerve endings. And for Chilton to hit Will, literally, right where it hurt, said a ton about the man’s character.

Frederick Chilton would have Will submitting to him out of fear. Fear that he would be hurt and beaten painfully without any hope of forgiveness or restitution. And Will would take it. He would take Chilton’s money and let him do those things to him. And the only person profiting from the relationship would be Chilton, despite the bills he’d press into Will’s bloody hand later on.

Hannibal however would have Will submitting to him out of desire. Desire and love and pleasure. And a want to please him – to please Hannibal, to make Hannibal happy. Although he could grow stronger and more confident, at the moment Will was meek. He was compliant, timid and delightfully submissive. He even desired the pain that Hannibal meted out, more importantly he understood it and was prompted by that to behave and receive Hannibal’s pleasuring in return.

Chilton on the other hand dispensed pain because he enjoyed it. He enjoyed seeing Will cower on the floor. He loved seeing Will flinch when he brought a hand up. He relished the way Will cried out in agony, knowing the pain was only going to get worse and knowing there would be no respite, no pleasure, no kindness afforded him.

Chilton _absolutely terrified_ Will deep down to his core and Hannibal had been too blind by his envy to even see it.

The thought hit Hannibal so hard he almost dropped his glass of brandy.

But it was true. Hannibal had been so jealous of Chilton, of Chilton’s supposed possessiveness of Will, that he’d been angry with Will. He’d barely even tried to make him feel any better after Chilton’s assault. In fact he hadn’t even thought of it as being an attack on Will until now. He’d blamed Will for the entire debacle right up until this point.

Hannibal put the glass of brandy down on the side table and rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin in his hand. How could he have been so blind? How could he have let his envy get the better of him so obviously? He needed to make this up to Will. He didn’t want Will to be as scared of him as he was of Chilton.

But he couldn’t do anything now. Will was hurt, he was asleep, or, if he weren’t asleep he would be replaying the last couple hours over in his mind. Trying to figure out why Hannibal would be angry with him. No, Hannibal would have to leave Will be for the moment. Let him at least try and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow he would apologize. He would explain his actions. Explain his anger. It was the least he could do.

 

* * *

 

The next morning dawned cold and gusty with winds rattling the windows of Hannibal’s home. He woke early, as per usual, and moved almost immediately after his shower and dressing, down to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for the two of them. His first appointment today wasn’t until 2pm so he had time to talk to Will about the previous night. He brewed coffee and prepared the mise-en-place for a protein scramble. He wasn’t hungry yet, he could wait until Will rose.

Leaning on the kitchen counter he heard the sound of the guest room’s door opening, followed quickly by the bathroom door closing, then the shower turning on. He smiled at how comfortable Will felt here already. He had a lot of work to do with Will after last night but for the moment, he was happy for Will to take as long as he wanted before coming to the kitchen.

Half an hour later, Hannibal heard slow footsteps approaching the kitchen. He made sure the kettle had water in it before turning it on for a fresh pot of coffee. Will emerged from the hallway and Hannibal had to stifle a gasp at his face.

Poor Will was looking very much the worse for wear. His right cheekbone was purple, his jaw was a dark blue and his lower lip had been split. To be honest, the entire side of his face looked painful and the way he was holding a hand against his ribs, Hannibal knew without a doubt that they were giving his strife.

“Will,” he breathed. “How do you feel?”

Will stopped in his kitchen and took a deep breath. He seemed to be taking stock of his injuries, debating on how exactly to answer Hannibal’s question.

“Sore. And hurt,” he finally replied. “Hurt physically and emotionally.”

“Please, sit down,” Hannibal said. He pulled a stool out and set it against the kitchen island for Will. “You are probably still tired.”

“Thank you,” Will said, grimacing as he took the offered seat. He kept his hand wrapped around his ribs and his eyes cast downward onto the counter.

“Let me make you some breakfast,” Hannibal said, turning on the cooktop.

“No it’s fine,” Will replied quickly. “I’m fine, I’m not hungry.”

“I was waiting for you for breakfast,” Hannibal replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry I kept you waiting… sir, really I am. If you were hungry you didn’t have to wait for me,” Will replied and Hannibal could hear a tremor in his voice.

Hannibal turned away from the stove and towards Will. He noticed Will flinch almost imperceptibly when he moved closer and that on it’s own drove a dagger into his heart.

“Will I need to say something to you and I need you to listen,” he began but Will interjected.

“I’m sorry for last night,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for not making Chilton leave. For letting him touch me like that. I’m sorry I’m not strong enough. I’m sorry I…” he finally took a breath and looked up at Hannibal. His blue eyes were glassy with tears. “I’m just…I’m sorry. Please… Don’t… Don’t hurt me…”

“No Will I won’t hurt you,” Hannibal replied, his heart cracking at Will’s defeated and scared tone. “Please believe me when I say I would never hurt you the way Frederick Chilton hurt you.”

“I…I thought you were angry with me,” Will said, keeping his eyes submissively low.

“I was last night,” Hannibal said and he saw Will tense up. “But I am not now. I realized I was taking out my anger on you and I apologize for that. I would like to apologize profusely for that Will. I was out of line. I’m angry at Frederick Chilton not you. The man is a beast, both personally and professionally. I’ve seen him work with patients and he attacks them with his questions the same way he attacked you with his fists. He is a brute. He can’t comprehend a scenario in which he is told ‘no’. And I gather that’s exactly what you told him. Otherwise, I would imagine, you would have been giving him a blow job when I walked in. Not on the floor, covered in your own blood. Is that right?”

Will, completely dumbfounded at Hannibal’s words, nodded. “I…You’re right. I did tell him ‘no’. But…he wouldn’t listen. I asked him to leave and he refused.”

“Tell me what happened Will,” Hannibal said. He leaned over the island and ran his fingers through Will’s dark curls. Will closed his eyes, trying to hide a flinch. Hannibal lightly moved his fingers down the back of Will’s head to his shoulder, trying to make the younger man feel safe, secure. Loved. “Please, tell me. Make me understand.”

“I asked him to leave but he wouldn’t. I…I spoke back to him,” Will stammered. “I knew it would only get me hurt, but I was…I was so frustrated. He walked in and spoke to me like he owned me. Like I was his…possession. And it annoyed me. It made me angry. Made me talk back. That was when he hit me the first time. I told him he couldn’t just walk in and hit me. Not if he wasn’t paying at least. So…so he pulled out a…a fucking twenty dollar bill that goddamn prick. Put it on the bar and told me to suck him off. I refused and he hit me again. Then he pulled his belt out and whipped me. Just the once. Then you walked in.”

Will took a breath then looked up at Hannibal for a split second before dropping his eyes again. “I would have called you. Or messaged. I just…I didn’t have time. One minute he walked in and the next I was…I didn’t have time. I’m sorry Hannibal.”

“No, please Will, don’t apologize,” Hannibal said, shaking his head. “I should never have gotten angry at you. I was jealous. Of Frederick. Of what he’s had with you. I should never have taken it out on you and I’m sorry. You’ve been through hell with that man and instead of comforting you I made you feel worse. I made you feel like it was your fault. I’m sorry, I really am. Will you forgive me?”

Will took in everything Hannibal had said and, truth be told, if their places were reversed he would have felt some of the same things Hannibal had felt walking in to see Frederick Chilton in the Black Stag. He understood Hannibal’s feelings. Wholeheartedly.

“I forgive you Hannibal.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first of all I really wanted to say a very big thank you to everyone who has reviewed and left their constructive criticism and praise. Thank you! While I've written quite a few fanfics before, this is the first one I've ever written for Hannibal. I feel like it was the story and the scenes that I really wanted to read so while I'm so happy this is being loved by so many others, I'm also happy I can put my dirty little thoughts up here... I'll take all of your constructive criticism and suggestions on board and I hope you enjoy this next instalment. Because, while this is all a little bit AU, it's getting back into the storyline now. And trust me, if you've enjoyed things so far and you like (read: LOVE) a good helping of hurt/abused/tortured Will then you're going to LOVE what I have planned for this story...
> 
> Anyways, I'm sorry this is a bit of a short chapter but enjoy nonetheless!

Those four words were like music to Hannibal’s ears. Soft, soothing music. He walked around the kitchen island to Will whose breath hitched when he got close. Hannibal ran his fingers lovingly through Will’s hair and down to massage his neck and shoulders gently. He heard Will sigh softly and that small sound made Hannibal ecstatic. His heart fluttered as he embraced Will, gingerly rubbing small circles on his back. Will sighed again and leant his head forward so he could rest it on Hannibal’s shoulder.

Even though his back and shoulders were still aching and bruised, Hannibal’s touch was sublime, Will thought. He felt Hannibal breathe deeply and he frowned, moving backwards.

“Did you just smell me?” he asked.

“I did. And you smell divine,” Hannibal replied. He brought his hand up to Will’s hair again and gently tugged eliciting a sharp gasp from Will. His touch wasn’t anywhere near as forceful or merciless as Chilton’s the night before but it surprised him all the same. “And you need to refer to me as ‘sir’,” Hannibal added, whispering the words into Will’s ear before lowering his mouth to Will’s thankfully unmarked neck and kissing him deeply.

“Ah…yes sir,” Will said, trying to keep himself under control. “I’m…ah! I’m sorry sir,” he said, gasping when Hannibal slid his lips down to Will’s collarbone, undoing his top buttons and pushing his shirt out of the way.

Will could feel himself getting painfully hard and he grabbed ahold of the kitchen counter as Hannibal gently turned him around on the stool so he was leaning back against the kitchen island. Hannibal continued kissing his collarbone while his hands roamed his chest. Will gasped as Hannibal ran his hands down to his now painfully hard cock and undid the front of his jeans.

Hannibal kneeled on the floor in front of Will and kissed his hard length adoring the way Will leaned his head back, his lips slightly parted and his eyes closed. Even with Chilton’s bruises covering half of his face, Will was still so beautiful. Hannibal took his cock into his mouth and Will gasped.

Hannibal felt so good and Will had to reach back and hold onto the edge of the island to stop himself falling forwards as Hannibal sucked him. His tongue dragged up the underside of his cock and Hannibal cupped his balls making Will groan. But Hannibal didn’t tease him, he didn’t do anything the Chilton had done in the past. Will always dreaded the times Chilton had kneeled between his legs. The man would tie him down before sucking him ferociously until he was right at the edge of orgasm and then leaving him on the brink. He’d do this again and again, sometimes up to twenty times in the one night and by the end Will would be begging, pleading, even crying with tears running down his face, imploring Chilton to find it in his heart to give him release.

Hannibal was nothing like Chilton, he lavished Will’s cock with his tongue until Will was right at the edge.

“Hannibal! Ah…I’m coming,” he gasped, his voice hoarse.

Hannibal lifted his mouth from Will’s cock momentarily to reply, “Then come my dear boy.”

And with the return of Hannibal’s warm mouth around his length Will came explosively, crying out and leaning back against the kitchen island. Hannibal sucked every last bit from his cock before doing up his jeans and the buttons on his shirt.

While Hannibal basically redressed him, Will worked to get his heart rate under control. Hannibal was so skilled with his mouth that for the entire time he’d been giving him head, Will injuries had disappeared, the pain had vanished and he’d felt completely whole again. However now that it was over, he felt the kitchen counter digging into his bruised spine and he frowned and hissed in pain, leaning forward again.

“Will, are you alright?” Hannibal asked, worried for his beautiful boy. He didn’t expect the brief look of agony that marred his features.

“Yes…it’s just my back,” Will said, grimacing as he wrapped a hand back around his ribs which were flaring up again. “Ah…and my ribs.”

“I’m sorry you are in pain, Will,” Hannibal said. “I apologize if my actions just now made your agony worse.”

“No, no it’s my fault,” Will countered, absentmindedly rubbing his throbbing ribs. “I should have told you it hurt.”

“It is never your fault Will,” Hannibal said gently. He gently grasped Will’s chin where it wasn’t bruised and lifted his head up. Will immediately avoided his eyes but he slowly raised his gaze to look at Hannibal’s dark irises. “It isn’t your fault unless I say it is. Anything that Chilton does to you could never be your fault, Will. Do you understand?”

Will nodded in response and Hannibal kissed him chastely on his bruised cheek making him wince.

“That pain is _not_ your doing,” Hannibal said, moving to kiss the dark blue patch of skin on his jawline and hearing the sharp intake of breath in response. “And neither is that. Or this,” he added, tenderly touching Will’s ribs. “And I am so sorry that Chilton hurt you the way he did. Without your consent. Without your desire. Without rewarding you. Merely punishing you over and over for crimes you had not even committed.”

“Thank you for that,” Will whispered. He was still very much in pain but he was trying gamely not to show it too much.

“Let me make you breakfast Will,” Hannibal said, placing one last kiss on Will’s unharmed cheek before leaving him and moving back to the stovetop.

“Thank you,” Will said before quickly adding, “sir.” This time when he spoke the last word he didn’t say it out of fear but out of the craving to please Hannibal.

And Hannibal could tell. With his back to Will, he smiled nonetheless as started cooking their protein scramble. They were quiet for a few moments, the only sound was the sizzling of the cooktop before a harsh ringing tone split the air.

“Shit,” he heard Will breathe, the word being cut off abruptly as if he was expecting Hannibal’s punishment for swearing.

Hannibal turned to see Will pulling out his mobile phone and answering it before getting off the stool with a wince and staggering slowly into the next room. Hannibal was plating up their breakfasts when Will returned. Hannibal didn’t ask him who it was on the phone, he waited for Will to volunteer the information. He wanted Will to feel the need to and he clearly did.

“That was Jack Crawford,” Will said. Hannibal raised his eyebrows in reply setting the plate in front of Will. “From the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. I applied there before I dropped out of college. He wants me to help on a case of his. He said my…empathic skills could help them.”

“What is the case Will?”

“They’re calling him the Minnesota Shrike.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you all enjoy this! I wrote it very, very quickly as it all came out (pun intended haha...) so apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes. 
> 
> But please. For lovers of all things smutty and deliciously painful....Enjoy...

It was past eleven o’clock in the evening when Hannibal’s doorbell rang. He put down his glass of wine and strolled to the front door. Upon opening it he took in Will Graham, leaning heavily against his doorframe looking exhausted, traumatized and completely shell shocked.

“Will,” he said frowning as the younger man stumbled across the threshold. Hannibal caught him in his arms and quickly shut the door behind them, walking and half-carrying Will to his living room. He deposited Will on the lounge and sat down next to him. “Will, what’s wrong?”

“I…I…killed him, Hannibal,” Will stammered looking down at his hands, expecting them to be covered in blood. He almost seemed surprised that they weren’t.

“You killed who, Will?” Hannibal asked, feigning ignorance. Jack Crawford had of course phoned him when he thought his relationship with Will was one of doctor-patient. He’d informed Hannibal of their goings on in Minnesota. And, while Hannibal hadn’t been there but for one day, it hadn’t been difficult to ascertain who was behind the Minnesota Shrike’s killings. All of them, except of course, Cassie Boyle, found dead and without her lungs. And boy had those lungs been delectable.

“Garrett Jacob Hobbs,” Will intoned in reply. “He was the Minnesota Shrike. He was killing girls because he couldn’t kill his daughter, Abigail. And I killed him. I…I shot him. In his kitchen.”

“Was Jack there?”

“Yes, he came in, he…he helped me. But Hannibal I…it felt…it felt _good_ goddamnit to kill him. It felt _just_. I’m a…I’m a murderer. A killer. Just like him.”

“Hush now Will, you are nothing of the sort,” Hannibal replied. He placed a hand in Will’s hair, stroking him gently, pushing his head down to rest on his shoulder. “You’re exhausted. You need to rest.”

“Jack wants me working for him now. I don’t know if I can.”

“But you catch killers Will. You have to help him.”

“I don’t know if my mind can take it.”

“I will help you Will,” Hannibal replied. “I will help you and you will help him.”

“I killed Garrett Jacob Hobbs but…but there was another killer. Another one that I didn’t catch. Cassie Boyle’s killer. He’s a copycat but…it was almost like he helped me. He helped me to see Hobbs. It was like Cassie Boyle was a negative…designed to help me see the positives in the other killings. There is another serial killer out there and I will find him,” Will said but Hannibal was right. He was exhausted, completely drained. His voice trailed off into a whisper.

“Come to bed Will, you need to sleep,” Hannibal said. He wasn’t worrying about Will finding him. Will wouldn’t find him. Will was his to toy with. And toys don’t find out what their masters are really doing.

Hannibal helped Will to the bedroom. He sat him on the edge of the bed and proceeded to undress him, rubbing soothing circles on his back the entire time. He was pleased to see that the marks left on him by Frederick Chilton were all but gone now. The only thing remaining was a red line across his shoulder, a scar to remind them both of Chilton’s brutality. He moved Will into the bed and under the covers and, within minutes Will was sound asleep. Hannibal knew he would probably wake from a nightmare later on but for now, at least, he was sleeping.

 

* * *

 

 

A month later and Hannibal’s doorbell was ringing again. Whilst Will was staying over at Hannibal’s home more often than not, Hannibal still hadn’t given him a key. Hannibal opened the door and was almost bowled over by Will striding into his home.

“Will, what is this about?” he said, frowning angrily at the retreating form of Will as he walked into Hannibal’s kitchen. He closed the door, locked it and followed Will in.

“Jack keeps pushing me. _Pushing_ me to look. He wants me to solve every case for him with my mind. To just _look_ at the crime scene and tell him who to go after. He doesn’t care what this is doing to me,” Will all but shouted at Hannibal as he pulled off his coat and dumped it on Hannibal’s dining table. Hannibal bristled at the discourtesy of his beautiful boy but let him continue nonetheless. “He doesn’t fucking _care_ Hannibal! All he wants is me to answer every question for him. Tell him where to look. Tell him what to do. He’s the fucking head of the Behavioral Science Unit for fuck’s sake. Shouldn’t he know a thing or two about catching fucking serial killers?”

“Will, calm down, I won’t have you shouting in my home like this. It’s unbecoming,” Hannibal said in response.

“All you ever _do_ is fucking tell me what to do. You’re just as bad as Jack is. Neither of you actually fucking care about me!”

At that Hannibal strode right up to him and slapped him, open-handed, across his face. Will gasped and held his cheek, looking at Hannibal, stunned.

“That is quite enough Will,” Hannibal replied. “You come into my home, shouting and swearing. It’s rude. It’s offensive. You need to be punished. Into the living room. Now.”

Will stomach dropped. It had been so long since that first fateful night he’d come over to Hannibal’s. He knew Hannibal had been dying to hurt him in that most stimulating way again, but he’d held off while he healed from Chilton’s mistreatment of him. That grace period was clearly over.

“I said get in the living room. Do not make me ask a third time,” Hannibal repeated.

Will dropped his gaze and nodded. “Yes sir,” he said meekly, leading the way into Hannibal’s living room.

“Strip,” Hannibal commanded, walking over to his cabinet of torture devices.

Will unbuttoned his shirt and laid it over Hannibal’s armchair. His pants and underwear quickly followed and then he was standing naked in the centre of the room. Hannibal walked up behind him and suddenly his vision vanished as a blindfold was tied around his eyes. A gag followed and Will felt the familiar tug on the corners of his mouth as it too was tied probably a touch too tight for comfort.

“Give me your hands,” Hannibal ordered. Will extended his hands in front of him and he felt cold metal close shut around them. “These are metal handcuffs. Do not pull too hard on them or you will do damage. Nod if you understand.” Will nodded. Hannibal moved Will forwards so that his hips bumped the edge of Hannibal’s desk. “Lean forward over the desk.”

Will did so and he felt and heard Hannibal connect his handcuffs to the carabiner lock attached to the opposite side of the desk. He was well and truly screwed now.

“Now spread your legs.” Will did so but he felt Hannibal’s riding crop slap the inside of his thigh. “Further.” He obeyed but felt the crop on his other thigh. “Will if you do not spread your legs as far as is humanly possible you will feel my full wrath rained down upon you. Now spread. Your. Legs.”

Will spread his legs so far that his wrists already started to hurt in the unforgiving handcuffs and his hips ached from the unnatural, uncomfortable position.

“Now remember. I know when to stop. But this will undoubtedly hurt.”

Without any further ado Hannibal brought the riding crop down on Will’s bare, unprotected arse. Will gasped behind the gag but Hannibal was already laying into him. Hannibal hit his arse again and again and again, only moving the crop ever so slightly so as not to hit a location that had only just been struck. To Will’s credit he didn’t move and ten minutes later his behind was bright red.

Hannibal put down the crop and grabbed a ruler off his desk. He parted Will’s cheeks and placed the ruler in between them.

“Clench,” he ordered and Will did so, the ruler sticking out between his butt cheeks. “If that ruler falls you will have hell to pay sweet boy. Pray that it does not fall.”

Then Hannibal picked up his paddle and started striking with abandon. He brought the paddle down all over Will’s buttocks and thighs with hardly a care as to how the boy would cope. He knew the crop and the paddle wouldn’t leave any lasting damage so he smacked Will’s arse again and again.

Will felt tears rolling down his cheeks as the pain from the repeated blows built up. It was almost too much to bear what with him clenching onto the ruler for dear life. The clenching muscles made the punishment even more painful for him and he almost wished that Hannibal had shoved raw ginger in his opening instead. His arse and thighs were on fire and, after what seemed like the hundredth strike, he let go of the ruler and it clattered to the floorboards. Will whimpered behind the gag when it happened, knowing his punishment would only get more painful now.

“Well, well, You can’t obey a simple command, that is no good. I told you this would get worse and it will,” Hannibal said, placing the paddle down and tut-tutting as he walked around to Will’s wrists. He unlocked the handcuffs and pulled Will’s wrists backwards. “Spread your cheeks.”

Will’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment but he reached behind and grasped his cheeks, spreading them for Hannibal.

“I don’t think I really need to warn you again but Will, this is going to hurt. Do. Not. Move. An. Inch. This will be your last punishment of tonight but be warned you’ll be feeling it for a while.”

With that, Hannibal turned the ruler in his hand so it was vertical before he whipped it through the air to land firmly and painfully right on Will’s exposed hole. Will cried out into the gag but by then Hannibal was landing the second blow. He laid twenty agonizing strikes between his cheeks right on top of each other over his now excruciatingly painful hole and perineum before he finally stopped. He put down the ruler, gently grasped Will’s hands and helped him stand up on shaking legs.

Hannibal kissed him lovingly up and down his exposed throat while he untied the gag and the blindfold. Will all but collapsed in his arms.

“Thank you Hannibal, thank you,” he whispered as Hannibal rubbed calming circles over his shoulders.

“Thank you my dear boy,” Hannibal replied, stifling the satisfied Cheshire Cat grin that was threatening. “Will you behave now?”

“Yes sir,” Will murmured. “I’m sorry for before. I love you Hannibal.”

Hannibal felt a warmth creeping over his heart and he couldn’t help the genuine smile that split his lips at that point.

“I love you too my beautiful boy.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I have to warn you. I'm deviating from the canon storyline quite a bit here. And it's all to do with what I have planned later on, which you will obviously gather from the end of this chapter. 
> 
> Hannibal is definitely doing some killing but he doesn't necessarily want to pin it on Will. However, we do need Will to wind up in Baltimore's State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Because you all know who is head of staff there....

Months passed and they fell into a routine of sorts. Will would be his usual meek, mild, ever so slightly unstable self and Hannibal would support him with his words and kisses and stunningly selfless blow jobs. And, every few weeks, Jack Crawford’s demands of Will would get to him. He would storm into Hannibal’s home shouting and swearing until Hannibal once again beat him into submission.

And both Will and Hannibal were loving every second of it.

Hannibal loved having Will in his hands to play with. To torture when he saw fit and to lavish upon when he desired. Will needed someone to keep him grounded. Someone to remind him of what the real world was. Someone who meted out real world pain and violence to him to distract him from the pain and violence he saw in his mind.

And, when Will was away with Jack Crawford, Hannibal was free to conduct his nightly murderous creations as the Chesapeake Ripper and, occasionally as the copycat who would throw Will off the scent. He didn’t necessarily want Will to catch him. Hannibal liked killing. And he liked tasting the flavor of his victims. He didn’t want to stop that now just because Will was working for the FBI. Maybe it was his pride, his hubris getting the way of common sense. But he disregarded that thought as quickly as it came to him. Will wouldn’t be able to put it together. Not when he was so close to Hannibal. Plus a certain other psychiatrist had thrown Jack Crawford onto another line of thinking in regards to the Chesapeake Ripper.

Dr Frederick Chilton was currently trying to convince Jack that Will was the Chesapeake Ripper.

Hannibal had found out recently and it had made his blood boil. Jack had decided to start asking for both him and Will in the last few weeks. He’d spoken with Hannibal and explained how he wanted him there in the field with Will to keep Will on the straight and narrow. To allow Will to have his empathic ventures and to make sure there was someone there to bring him back from the brink. But, without telling Will or Hannibal, Jack had also started speaking to Chilton. He’d started bringing Chilton in on cases to observe Will.

 

* * *

 

 

That first time had been torture for Will. They had been on the beach, an icy wind blowing around a totem pole of bodies. Jack had just asked for those on the scene to back away for a moment while Will did, in Jack’s words, ‘his thing’.

Hannibal stepped back and was standing next to Jack, watching Will survey the crime scene with his untapped empathy when a cold drawl spoke up beside him.

“He’s looking well. I believe I have you to thank for that.”

Hannibal turned to see Chilton standing next to him. Hannibal silently berated himself for not having noticed the man’s approach. He’d been too wrapped up in thoughts of Will to hear Chilton’s careful footsteps.

“And I have you to thank for delivering him into my caring hands, Dr Chilton,” Hannibal replied softly.

“We’ll see how that works out. It could all change soon,” Chilton said casually.

“What are you talking about, Dr Chilton?” Hannibal asked, keeping his voice as light in tone as Chilton was.

“Well I can’t go around ruining every surprise now can I?” Chilton said with a smirk. “I still feel bad for telling you how good a fuck he was,” he added in a whisper so Jack wouldn’t hear. “Have you had him yet?”

Hannibal was silent. He still hadn’t taken Will yet. Oh, how he’d wanted to, how he’d wished to. But he’d waited. He’d wanted to wait for Will. For Will to ask for it. But Will’s job kept getting in the way of his wellbeing and Hannibal hadn’t wanted to push anything, pun intended.

“Ah, so you haven’t yet. Well there’s still time, Dr Lecter. Although time may be running out.”

It was at this moment that Will turned around and froze at the sight of Frederick Chilton whispering to Hannibal. He took a shaky step forward and Chilton turned to look at him and smiled. Terrified, Will looked from Chilton to Jack Crawford and back to Chilton again.

“Will, what is it?” Jack asked.

“I…It’s…” Will’s voice drifted and as if in slow motion, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed into a boneless heap on the cold sand.

Hannibal raced forward. Will had been too far away for any of them to have caught him before he hit the ground but Hannibal immediately kneeled down by his side and cradled his head in one hand and felt for his pulse with the other making sure to appear as a medical professional to both Chilton and Jack. And not as worried partner.

“Dr Lecter?” Jack asked, anxiously. “Is he alright?”

“I believe he’s simply fainted. He should come around soon,” Hannibal replied clinically, working hard to show his detachment from Will. “I’ve spoken to him in our sessions about eating. He just does not eat enough when he’s under pressure. Can you give me your coat? He’s very cold.”

“Of course, Dr Lecter,” Jack said, shrugging out of his coat and handing the heavy woolen garment to Hannibal who wrapped it around Will’s shoulders. “They called in for ambulances to help take the bodies back to the lab, I’ll see if they have a space blanket for him.”

“That’s a good idea, Jack,” Hannibal replied.

Jack walked back towards the road leaving the still-unconscious Will with both Hannibal and Chilton.

“What are you really doing here, Chilton?” Hannibal asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“I have some theories about our friend here that Jack has been entertaining recently. He wants me to observe Will working in the field. And I’m afraid what’s happened today may not bode well for poor Will,” Chilton explained before he too started walking towards the road.

Now that they were both gone, Hannibal stroked Will’s cheek, frowning at how cold he was.

“Will, wake up now,” Hannibal softly begged him. “Come on Will.”

He heard the rustle of a space blanket and turned to see Jack striding back to them. Will groaned in his hands and his eyelids fluttered.

“Ah back with the living I see,” Jack said as Will struggled to sit up.

“W-what happened?” Will stammered. “Why aren’t you wearing your coat?”

“Still so observant,” Hannibal said with a chuckle. He pulled Jack’s coat gently off Will and swapped it for the space blanket before Will even had time to shiver in the icy breeze. “You fainted.”

“I fainted?”

“Yes. You turned around, saw Dr Lecter, Dr Chilton and I waiting for you and then you fainted.”

“Dr…Ch-Chilton is here?” Will said, hating how weak he sounded. “W-why?” Despite the warmth of the space blanket his teeth started chattering.

“He’s going to be helping out for a while. He heads up the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. He should know a thing or two about serial killers,” Jack explained but that deviated from what Chilton had been telling Hannibal.

They helped Will up and back to the road but Hannibal’s head was swimming with thoughts of Frederick Chilton. He found out soon enough what Chilton was up to.

 

* * *

 

 

He had been leaving the BAU a week later, strolling through the hallways casually, reluctant to leave Will so soon when he’d heard the unmistakable drawl of one Dr Frederick Chilton. It was coming from Jack’s office and, unbeknownst to Jack, the door was ever so slightly ajar. The hallway was deserted and Hannibal pulled out his phone. It wasn’t something he’d generally do, stop in a hallway to write a message, but the agents at the BAU didn’t know him from Adam.

“I’m starting to think you’re right Dr Chilton,” came Jack Crawford’s voice from inside the office.

“I have many years experience with these sorts of minds Jack,” Chilton replied. “I can tell when they’re at their breaking point. I can also rehabilitate them. But you need to be putting him under my care sooner rather than later before he kills again.”

“I just…I can’t completely believe it’s him,” Jack said. “I put him back out there. I put his mind under the stress and pressure it’s now under. I _made_ him look. I made him look at those crime scenes. Turned his mind into that of a killer. A murderer. The blame rests on my shoulders Dr Chilton.”

“Jack, don’t blame yourself. For all we know, Dr Lecter’s therapy is failing our poor Mr Graham. But my therapy won’t. You have my word Jack. Just stop him before he kills again. He needs to be under my care. The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane can and will help him. I will help him. As only I know how.”

Hannibal had heard enough. He turned on his heel but slowed his pace. He did not want to do anything rash. But he did need to somehow stop Will from ending up with Chilton and under his ‘care’ again.

But unfortunately Hannibal was too late.

 

* * *

 

 

When Will finally rang his doorbell at eleven forty-five that night, looking even more drained and weak than usual, Hannibal let him in, let him sink into the armchair in the living room.

“Jack suspects me,” Will said, looking up at Hannibal with exhausted, bloodshot eyes. “He thinks I’m the Chesapeake Ripper. I don’t know how. I don’t know why. I haven’t given him reason to think this. But he thinks it. He believes it. He’ll be coming for me soon I imagine.”

“It’s Chilton,” Hannibal replied with a sigh.

“Chilton,” Will breathed, placing his head in his hands and running his fingers through his unruly hair.

“Chilton has been slowly and steadily convincing him that you are the Chesapeake Ripper over the last few weeks. He wants you locked up in the State Hospital. He wants you at his disposal.”

“You’re not making me feel better about this Hannibal,” Will said with a humorless laugh.

“I am not sure I can fix this in time,” Hannibal said. “Jack already thinks I am too close to you to have an unbiased opinion. He doesn’t know your history with Chilton however. Knowing that would change his mind.”

“No,” Will said, jerking his head up to look Hannibal directly in the eye before dropping his gaze again. “No, sir. Please don’t tell him. I don’t want him to know. He would…he would look at me differently. He already thinks I’m unstable. He doesn’t need to know I’m a victim as well.”

“But you fought back Will,” Hannibal pressed.

“Barely.”

“Will this could be the only way you”-

Hannibal was cut off by the ringing of his doorbell again. Will’s shoulders trembled with silent sobs. They were out of time. They’d never had enough in the first place. Chilton had injected his theories into Jack’s mind piece by piece. And they’d only become aware of it now. The doorbell sounded again. Hannibal stood up and approached it.

Will heard the door open and Jack’s voice ask, “Is he here?”. Will flinched at the lack of emotion he could hear in Jack’s words and he stood up. Waiting to be led away. Into the firing line that was Chilton’s pleasure.

Hannibal led Jack into the living room. Jack looked as upset as Will to be there but Will could see the firearm at his side.

“Jack please, you know I’m not the Chesapeake Ripper,” Will pleaded. “I’m not a killer.”

“You killed Garrett Jacob Hobbs,” Jack replied quietly.

“Please that was…he would’ve killed me. Hobbs was a serial killer. I just…Please don’t do this, Jack,” Will begged. He took a step towards them.

“Stay right there Will,” Jack said. He pulled handcuffs out.

“Jack you _know_ I’m not a killer,” Will said, unconsciously taking another step forward. But it was enough to spur Jack into action immediately.

Without warning and without time for any of them in the room to stop it, Jack raised his gun and fired, the bullet hitting Will’s shoulder. The force of the impact spun Will around and he fell to the floor, clutching the wound.

“Will!” Hannibal shouted. He made as if to run to Will’s side but Jack held out an arm, keeping him back.

Will gasped from the white-hot pain that spread from the bullet wound in his shoulder. Hot blood pooled and ran down his arm.

“I’ll need that ambulance,” Jack spoke into a radio and sirens immediately sounded from the end of the road as an ambulance sped up to Hannibal’s doorstep.

Jack read Will his rights while Will gritted his teeth, gasping his breaths, the pain from the bullet wound taking over all of his senses in one agonizing swoop. The paramedics rushed in with a stretcher and strapped him down while Hannibal stood by. There was nothing he could do at this point. Jack wouldn’t have any solid evidence from the bodies to pin them to Will. But he did have Will’s unstable mind and Chilton’s supposedly firm theories to contend with.

“I’m sorry this had to be your patient Dr Lecter,” Jack said, following the paramedics outside to watch them load Will, who had now passed out, into the back of the ambulance. “And I’m sorry this all had to take place in your home. I would have preferred it a different way.”

“I understand you have to do your job Jack. I only hope we can all work together to rehabilitate Mr Graham,” Hannibal replied seeing the hated figure of Dr Frederick Chilton approach them.

“We have Mr Graham in custody I presume?” Chilton asked, gesturing to the flashing lights of the ambulance and the cop cars surrounding Hannibal’s home.

“We have Mr Graham in the ambulance. I shot him,” Jack admitted.

“Ah that is a shame for Mr Graham. But under my care he will heal in no time,” Chilton replied and all Hannibal could do was bite his tongue. “And, make no mistake Dr Lecter, my therapy sessions will be vigorous. Jack we will find out whether or not Mr Graham is the Chesapeake Ripper. One way or another.”

And that was exactly what Hannibal was afraid of. Not of his own murderous doings being found out. He was afraid of Chilton’s techniques. And he was worried if Will could survive them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie. This is definitely what I was looking forwards to writing. Now that Chilton has his hands on poor Will, what will befall our poor boy?

Three weeks later.

“Will my darling boy…time for you to wake up…Will…”

The slow drawl that always cut through his foggy mind started to rouse Will. His head lolled, his chin on his chest. He was exhausted. He was in pain. But he would not let Chilton win. But god had he been trying.

Without warning a bucket of ice cold water was tipped over his head making Will gasp at the frigid coldness of it. Here he was, in a cell in an unused part of the hospital, in the middle of winter, wearing only pants and Chilton had seen fit to douse him in freezing water. He coughed harshly feeling a slight rattle in his chest. If Chilton kept him cold like this for much longer he’d be sick very soon.

“Ah there you are!” Chilton sounded happy at least as Will raised his head. He could barely see out of his left eye, it was so swollen. Chilton’s orderlies were as violent and forceful, if not more so, than their leader. This latest black eye was the result of Will not getting to his feet quick enough when they’d come to collect him for his last ‘therapy session’.

“I thought you were out for the count that time. But you just keep coming back don’t you,” Chilton murmured. He walked up to Will and traced a finger along his collarbone making Will cringe away from him as far as his restraints would allow. “Just like a cockroach.” Chilton dragged his finger along Will’s throat and to his other shoulder, stopping just short of his bandaged gunshot wound. “Does this still hurt?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“You know…it does Chilton,” Will replied hoarsely, his voice ragged from his previous sessions with Chilton.

“I thought it might,” Chilton said before tapping the bandaged wound none too gently with his finger making Will gasp. While Chilton had made sure the wound was clean and bandaged with fresh dressings daily, he wasn’t careful with it at all and it was going to scar horribly. Chilton had already noticed Will’s most recent scar on his shoulder, courtesy of the belting Chilton had given him a few months back. He intended to give him even more scars just like it. If he couldn’t have Will loving him like he loved Hannibal, he’d settle for Will fearing him. And he’d happily settle for it.

Right now he had Will hanging from the ceiling of the cell, the tips of his toes just touching the ground. He’d used the restraints they used on the cots so they weren’t as vicious as he would’ve liked, however Will’s wrists were almost always bruised now and he loved seeing the strain the frequent suspension had on the muscles in Will’s shoulders and back. He had Will in constant pain. That was exactly how he wanted him.

“Now why don’t we resume the session with you telling me about your relationship with Hannibal,” Chilton said, walking around Will so that he was behind him.

Will’s back was covered in bruises at the moment from Chilton’s belt. He hadn’t struck him hard enough to draw blood but he’d lashed him almost every second day since he’d arrived at the hospital. Long stripes of bruised skin crisscrossed Will’s back, all in various stages and colours of healing. Some of the bruises wrapped around his sides and ended on his hips and his ribs. And Chilton knew that they were giving him a hell of a lot of agony and discomfort.

“Go to…hell Chilton,” Will said between breaths. When he was suspended like this it made breathing that much more difficult. His shoulders felt like they were about to give way, his arms felt like they were about to pop out from their sockets. But when he tried to lever himself up instead of just hanging there the pain from his back intensified ten fold. It was easier to just hang. At least this way he’d pass out sooner.

“You know, I have to admit, I thought you’d break quicker,” Chilton said. He laid his hands down on Will’s shoulders relishing the groan it brought him. He squeezed Will’s bruised shoulders and started to massage them eliciting gasp after gasp of stifled cries of pain.

“Please…” Will whispered when the agony became overwhelming.

“Oh, you’ve decided to talk to me?” Chilton said, his hands immediately lifting from Will’s excruciatingly sore shoulders. He was met with silence. He slapped his hands down on Will’s shoulders making his captive sob in pain before walking back around to his front again. “That’s what I thought.”

He stroked Will’s cheek and Will jerked his face away half-heartedly. He was too drained for this. There was too much pain. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t he even try to manipulate Chilton to leave him at this point.

“I’ll give you the same choice I give you every time we’re down here,” Chilton said with a sigh. “Start talking. Or you can service me and I’ll send you back to your cell.”

“I’ll…” Will drifted off. He made the same choice every time he was with Chilton. It didn’t get easier with repetition. It got harder. It made him sick inside.

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll…service you…on one…condition,” Will replied, keeping his gaze focused on the ground, trying to ignore the unimaginable ache and pain in his shoulders and back, his slowly numbing toes and the rattle in his chest.

“I’m not sure you’re in the position to be giving out conditions. But what kind of psychiatrist would I be if I didn’t listen to my patients when they finally start opening up to me,” Chilton said with a grin. “What’s your condition sweet boy?”

“I want…to see…Hannibal,” Will whispered in response.

“Ah you haven’t yet asked for this have you?” Chilton asked rhetorically. “You assumed he hasn’t visited you because I’m prohibiting him. Have you ever considered the fact that he finds you incomprehensible? A dark stain on his life? That he finds you revolting, repulsive, utter filth? No I suppose you hadn’t considered that. Well I guess you assumed correctly, I did prohibit him from visiting. That should warm the cockles of your ungrateful heart.”

Chilton’s final sentence calmed Will’s heart rate, which had started racing during the psychiatrist’s monologue. But now he dreaded what Chilton would make him do in return for letting him see Hannibal.

“You will have to sing for your supper this time, my sweet boy,” Chilton promised.

Will’s restraints were tied to a rope that looped through bars on the ceiling and was then tied down to bars on the wall behind him. Chilton walked over to where the rope was tied off and undid the knots. Without warning the ropes holding Will up went slack and he fell to the cold, hard ground onto his now permanently bruised knees and hands. He groaned as the abused muscles in his back, neck and shoulders finally straightened out after the two hours or so he’d been hanging. Finally he felt as if he could take a deep breath but his exhale was a harsh coughing fit.

Chilton grabbed his wrists and buckled them together behind his back. The rope was still attached and Chilton started to take up the slack. Will felt the rope tightening and his arms pulling vertically and he moved to stand up again.

“Stay on your knees,” Chilton said, tying off the rope again. Will’s arms were now straining in their sockets as they were pulled upwards but remained behind his back. A heavy ache immediately settled into his shoulders and his exhaustion tripled. But he couldn’t falter now. One wrong movement and an arm could be forcibly wrenched out of its socket.

Chilton walked back to his captive. He unzipped his fly and his hard cock sprung free.

“Suck me and make it good, or I tighten those ropes. I don’t care if I dislocate your shoulders,” Chilton warned.

Will licked his dry lips and placed them around Chilton’s length. He sucked Chilton for all he was worth, picturing Hannibal sitting across from him in the visiting room. If this was all he had to do to see Hannibal, he’d do it gladly. Chilton moaned and grabbed a fistful of Will’s hair, greedily shoving his hips forward and making Will gag. His thrusting grew more and more violent until finally he came, his fingers tightening insufferably on Will’s hair. He jerked once, twice, three times and on the third time Chilton pushed Will backwards and he heard a sickening pop from his right shoulder as his arm was twisted out of it’s socket.

Will immediately pulled his mouth off of Chilton’s cock, crying out in pain as he felt the hot fiery agony of the dislocated shoulder wrap around him and down his arm. He felt his stomach turn at this new, unexpected pain and he dry-retched. He hadn’t eaten anything today so there was nothing to throw up. He looked up at Chilton with tears rolling down his face.

“Please…Chilton…my shoulder…please, it…it hurts so much…” he sobbed, his breaths coming in gasps. “Please…”

Chilton took his time zipping up his fly before he unlocked the door of the cell. Between sharp inhales and exhales, Will heard him walk casually down the hall before speaking to the orderlies who were waiting at the end of the corridor for him. Then through a red haze of pain he saw the orderlies enter his cell. One of them untied the ropes and his right arm dropped limply to the floor making Will cry out again as he felt the bones scrape unnaturally against each other.

The pain kicked into overdrive as one of the orderlies grasped his wrist and elbow. His shoulder snapped back into place and thankfully Will finally blacked out, departing from a world of agony and sorrow.

 

* * *

 

 

“He’s ready for you now.”

Hannibal stood up from the uncomfortable seat in the waiting room of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane and followed the orderly down a hallway towards the visiting room. It was uncomfortably cold in here, he thought, pulling his jacket closed. He only hoped it was warmer in the cells for his poor, beautiful boy.

The orderly opened the door for him and gestured for him to go inside. “Knock when you’re done with him,” he said.

Hannibal entered and his heart jumped when he saw Will sitting at the table in front of him.

“Will,” he breathed. The door closed behind him with a slam and Will flinched from the noise. He still didn’t look up. That worried Hannibal. Will’s wrists were handcuffed and chained to the table and Hannibal noticed that his delicate wrists were badly bruised. “Will,” he said again, taking a seat opposite the younger man. "Will, please look at me?"

Finally Will looked up. His face was bruised with dark blue shadows extending over his cheekbones and jawline. His lower lip was split in two places and his cheeks seemed to have hollowed out in the last few weeks. His blue eyes were exhausted and bloodshot and, worst of all, were leaking tears.

“H-Hannibal…” Will whispered. “Will you…help me…please?”

“Oh my poor Will,” Hannibal sighed. “What has Chilton done to you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me how you're enjoying the story! I love reviews and comments! Constructive criticism is always appreciated and suggestions are always taken under advisement.


	14. Chapter 14

Will ducked his head, feeling the strain in his neck and shoulders with every movement no matter how small. He didn’t like Hannibal seeing him like this. In this pathetic state. In fact, even though seeing Hannibal had been the one thing he’d wanted, he still hated to face him when he was so beaten down.

“Where are you hurt?” Hannibal asked, stretching out a hand and placing it over Will’s.

Will hissed at Hannibal’s contact with the bruises on his wrist but clutched his fingers lightly when Hannibal went to move away.

“A better question,” he said, his voice hoarse and gravelly, “is where _aren’t_ I hurt?”

“Please Will, tell me you’re alright,” Hannibal replied.

“I suppose I’m alright,” Will said. He took a breath in before adding, “I’m still standing if that’s what you mean. More or less anyway.”

“Where are you hurt?” Hannibal repeated.

Will sighed. He wasn’t getting out of this easily. “My back. My right shoulder.”

“May I see?” Hannibal asked gently.

“Yes,” Will replied before softly adding, “sir.”

Hannibal smiled sadly at his beautiful boy obeying his rules even now before slowly standing. He didn’t feel like Will was in the right frame of mind for sudden movements right now. He walked around the table to Will’s side.

“I’m going to unbutton your shirt so I may see,” Hannibal said tenderly, warning Will, instead of just diving in.

“Okay,” Will said.

Hannibal noticed how, even though his throat and voice was obviously sore, he was conspicuously avoiding any nodding or shaking of his head. He seemed far too stiff and Hannibal wondered what injuries lay beneath his hospital issue shirt. He ever so gently started to unbutton Will’s shirt, enough so he could slide it off Will’s shoulders. He bit back a gasp while Will let one escape as the shirt moved out of the way.

Will’s back was a mess of black and blue stripes. It was hard to find a large enough patch of unharmed skin. His right shoulder was swollen and completely covered in bruises. It was clearly giving him a lot of pain. At least his skin hadn’t been broken anywhere but the damage was enough for Hannibal to want to stalk up to Chilton’s office and disembowel him right then and there. He gingerly replaced Will’s shirt, hating how the shirt brushing his right shoulder made Will hiss in pain.

“Tell me what happened,” Hannibal said, after he’d sat back down on the other side of the table. “Tell me what is _happening_. It’s Chilton.”

“Yes, it’s Chilton,” Will answered softly. “Every two or three days, I’m dragged out of my cell. The orderlies take me down to a basement area of the hospital. It’s not used to house any inmates so it’s completely empty. I’m restrained and then they suspend me from the bars in the ceiling.”

“Your wrists,” Hannibal said with a sigh, looking down at the wide black and blue rings encircling his wrists. Now made worse by the handcuffs and chains. “The muscles in your back, neck and shoulders are strained too, I’d imagine.”

“Yes. I’m always down for there for a few hours. Sometimes I don’t know how long. I’m…I’m not sleeping well.”

“I’d be surprised if you were Will.”

“Chilton comes in. He asks some questions. Mainly questions about you. Questions about us. I don’t tell him anything. He’s yet to even ask about the murders that I’ve supposedly committed. It always ends the same way. He whips me with his belt. I think it’s his belt – it feels like his belt. And then…then he asks me…that…uh…” Will trailed off. He didn’t know whether or not to tell Hannibal this next part. He didn’t want to have an enemy in Chilton and an enemy in Hannibal. He couldn’t take that much. He was barely coping at the moment.

“What does he ask you Will?” Hannibal questioned, keeping his tone neutral. “Nothing you say right now will anger me. The only thing you need to do in here is survive. And anything that Chilton is forcing you to do is out of your control.”

“He asks me…if I’ll talk to him. He gives me the choice to either talk to him or…or service him.”

“And you haven’t talked to him yet have you?”

This time Will can’t speak and merely shakes his head, wincing at the pull and tug on abused muscles and bruised skin.

“What happened to your shoulder?”

“He dislocated it while I was…giving him…while I was servicing him in our last session,” Will stammered. “My hands were restrained behind my back. Then he pulled them up with the rope. I don’t think he meant to dislocate my shoulder.”

Will’s clinical, detached way of speaking about the tortures inflicted on him here worried Hannibal. He had first come to love Will’s mind, he didn’t want that mind completely obliterated by Chilton’s forceful hand.

“Have you spoken to anyone about what he’s doing here? This…you know this is not allowed,” Hannibal said, frowning down at the table between them.

“You’re my first visitor,” Will replied haltingly. “I know he’s told his orderlies not to…to mark my face. But he’s also told them that I’m the most dangerous inmate they’ve ever had. And to use force when necessary to subdue me.”

“He’s given them a blank check for them to write down whatever ‘ _force_ ’ they deem necessary,” Hannibal said. He was angry but he was keeping his rage in check, it would not do for Will to pick up on his rage. Although, knowing Will, he would have picked up on it the moment Hannibal walked in the room.

“He has. He knows my first court appearance isn’t for another three weeks. I imagine that’s at least only one more week of beatings if he wants me to have healed by then,” Will suggested. “At least he should stop hitting me in my face, I’d hope.”

“Has he provided you with any kind of treatment for your injuries?” Hannibal asked, although he was already certain of the probable answer.

“Not overly, no. The orderlies seem to be avoiding my shoulder for the moment at least.”

“That’s all? He didn’t ice your shoulder? Provide you with a sling at least?” Hannibal questioned, letting a touch of his anger slide into his voice.

Will shrugged with only his left shoulder, rattling the handcuffs. “Does this _look_ like a sling to you?”

Hannibal made to reach out for Will’s hands and the handcuffs clattered again, violently this time, against the tabletop when Will flinched back away from him, hissing quietly at the pull on his bruised wrists.

“I’m s-sorry, sir, I shouldn’t have s-said that,” he whispered.

“Please Will, it is me who should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have moved like that, that was unthinking of me,” Hannibal said, slowly dragging his hands back across the table. “As well, I would never see fit to punish you while you are so vulnerable. That would something Dr Chilton would do. I will talk to him. And Jack.”

“No, please don’t Hannibal,” Will said, looking up at him, fearfully. “Please, he’ll…If you talk to Chilton he’ll take it out on me. If you talk to Jack, Jack will talk to Chilton and he’ll take it out on me. I can cope with this, I can, really. I just…I don’t know if I could cope if it was…intensified.”

“Will, you cannot say that to me. There are other hospitals where you could stay. You do not have to stay here, under the thumb of Dr Chilton. Let me fix this. Or give me a reason not to.”

Will sighed. He racked his brains trying to make his exhausted, sleep deprived, starved mind to work. “There is one orderly, Matthew Brown. He’s taken a liking to me. Because of what I’m accused of doing. He…he almost reveres me as a killer. When he’s working, it’s not quite so bad. He’ll often slip me painkillers when he knows I have a session with Chilton. He sometimes tries to rub the aches out of my shoulders from being suspended for so long. He’ll bring me extra food”-

“Is Chilton feeding you enough?” Hannibal interrupted. He’d noticed Will looked leaner when he’d first seen him but his mind had been overtaken by the torture inflicted on his poor boy.

“Probably not. He’s said to me on numerous occasions, he ‘likes me hungry’,” Will said with a frown. “Most days I get two meals. Some days I don’t get any. Those are the days I have to rely on Matthew.”

“Will, this is not right,” Hannibal said, shaking his head. “It is inhumane. It is torture.”

“Hannibal I can’t think of anything you could do that wouldn’t result in more pain for me goddamnit!” Will’s voice rose to a shout at the end that then dissolved into a harsh coughing fit. Hannibal leapt from his chair and to Will’s side, kneeling by his chair while his coughing subsided. Will could feel the rattling in his chest and knew he was sicker than he first thought. Hannibal was rubbing calming circles on his left shoulder and the back of his neck. Will gulped in huge breaths of air when the coughing abated and he closed his eyes when Hannibal’s fingers moved to his hair. Lightly massaging his scalp, Hannibal smiled when he saw his beautiful boy lose some of the tension in his shoulders.

“I’m sorry sir,” Will whispered. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that.”

“I know what I can do,” Hannibal said, already picturing the murder he would soon commit. The name he would pick out of his Rolodex. The person who he would slice and carve, plant evidence on, exonerate Will with, free him.

“Please don’t sir,” Will pleaded, his voice trembling. “I can’t...I can’t take much more than what Chilton is already giving. I’m coping at the moment but…”

“I know what I can do to free you from this place. I can’t promise that Chilton won’t hurt you even more because of it. But I can promise you that you will be free of him,” Hannibal pledged. “And you will be home. With me.”

“I’m just…I’m just so tired. I’m tired of the pain he inflicts on me. When you…when you hurt me there’s…there’s pleasure involved. I enjoy it. Your punishments they…keep me in line. Keep me grounded, I feel I need them. But with Chilton, he just hurts me. There’s no reason behind him. No purpose other than to see me crying, begging for him to stop. He makes me plead. Makes me beg him to…to give him a fucking blow job just so he’ll leave me alone,” Will finished, hating the way his voice cracked and shivered over the words. “I’m so tired of just being used by him.”

“You won’t be for much longer, I promise.”

Hannibal stood up and leant forwards to place tender, soft kiss on Will’s lips. He felt Will open his mouth to allow his tongue access but he shook his head and moved backwards.

“Y-you don’t want to?” Will asked, his gaze lowering submissively.

“I don’t want you to submit to me purely because you’re being forced to submit to a sadist every day and you’re in the habit of doing so, Will,” Hannibal said.

A knock sounded at the door. It was unlocked and the orderly stepped in.

“Time to go, Mr Lecter.”

“Dr Lecter,” Hannibal warned, his voice low but not exactly threatening.

“The patient has a session with Dr Chilton now,” the orderly said, impatiently.

“When was his last session?” Hannibal inquired.

“Yesterday,” the orderly replied.

“Very well then,” Hannibal said. He took one last look at Will, his head bowed in defeat, his bruises standing out darkly against his pale skin, before leaving. Not before hearing his beautiful boy gasp when the orderly manhandled him to his feet.

Hannibal didn’t allow himself to stay long at the hospital. He quickly left, already mapping out the murder he would soon commit. The only possible thing he could to help Will at this point.


	15. Chapter 15

“Will my dear, I have a present for you…”

Will groaned and forced his eyes open. He was exhausted. Chilton had barely let him sleep in recent days, he was only getting a few hours a night. It had been two days since he’d seen Hannibal and he was losing hope that Hannibal would ever be able to free him from his prison here.

“Up you get,” Chilton said from outside the bars of his cell. Will rolled over onto his side, gritting his teeth as his abused muscles and bruised skin flared up. He grasped the edge of the bed and got to his feet shakily.

“Now I don’t have any of my orderlies with me today but I do have this,” Chilton said, looking down. Will followed his gaze to see a taser attached to his belt and swallowed thickly. He knew that would hurt. He wouldn’t even try to rile Chilton up today. He didn’t have the energy.

“Face the back of your cell,” Chilton said happily.

Will did so, one hand on the cold back wall of his cell to keep his balance. He heard Chilton unlock the cell door, heard it swing open, then heard him approach him slowly. He jumped with Chilton laid his hands on Will’s neck. He shivered at Chilton’s touch.

“I feel your neck is entirely too bare for my liking,” Chilton murmured, his mouth close to Will’s ear. Will closed his eyes, trying to ignore the blatant arousal pressing into his spine and the sick, twisted desire in Chilton’s voice.

“What would you propose Dr Chilton?” he asked, keeping his tone courteous.

“This,” Chilton said and Will felt a strip of leather at the front of his throat, tightening. He inhaled sharply and reached his fingers up, forcing them between the leather and his skin but Chilton pulled tighter, the leather pressing on his windpipe.

“Oh no, Will, hands down. _Now_.”

Will reluctantly dropped his hands. He could still breathe thankfully as he felt Chilton buckling what he now realized was a collar – a fucking collar – around his neck. He felt Chilton pull something out of his pocket and it was attached to his collar, closing with an audible, metallic click – a padlock. He could feel the cold metal on the back of his neck and he closed his eyes in defeat.

“Ah, that looks better. More like the dog that you are. But we need to get one thing straight here Will. I may have let you see your beloved Hannibal, but I am your master. Not him. This is my house and _you will obey me_ ,” Chilton said.

He grabbed Will’s shoulders and roughly turned him around. Will gasped as Chilton’s fingers dug into his still very painful right shoulder but otherwise remained silent.

“Much better,” Chilton said, grinning as he hooked a finger in between the collar and Will’s skin. He jerked it forwards and Will had no choice but to stumble closer to Chilton. He kept his eyes focused on the floor, he didn’t want to do anything to challenge the man.

“See you later.”

Chilton gave his new collar one last tug before leaving his cell. Will swallowed, feeling how tight and uncomfortable the collar was, before getting back onto his cot.

 

* * *

 

 

The next two days he was, thankfully, left alone. But on the third day the orderlies came for him. His wrists were buckled into the thick leather restraints before being buckled together in front of him. The orderlies placed firm hands on his upper arms and propelled him out of the cell and down into the hated basement before pushing him into the cell where a waiting Chilton glared at him.

Chilton seemed angrier than usual and Will kept his eyes cast down to the floor, not wanting to aggravate him any further. He jumped with the cell door clanged shut behind him and flinched when Chilton grabbed the front of his collar. Chilton pulled a length of leather fron his pocket and clipped it onto the front of his collar. Chilton now had him leashed. Will closed his eyes and swallowed, feeling twinges of pain where the too-tight leather had chafed his throat.

“I’m not happy with you,” Chilton murmured turning around and tugging the leash. Will choked slightly as he stumbled forwards to the centre of the room.

“W-why?” he stammered.

Chilton spun back around to face him and backhanded him harshly, making Will’s head snap to the side and the leash jerk painfully on the collar. He tasted blood in his mouth but stopped himself from spitting it out. Chilton hated when he did that.

“Does it matter?” Chilton growled. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“W-what do you mean?” Will asked, starting to get worried. He hadn’t seen Chilton since their last session down here that had gone the same way all of their sessions went. Chilton backhanded him again and Will stumbled, choking when Chilton didn’t give him any slack in the leash.

“Is it clear now that it’s not necessary for you to speak?” Chilton said, cruelly.

He pulled a piece of ragged cloth out of his pocket and walked behind Will. Then, without warning Chilton grasped his jaw, hard enough to bruise and jerked his mouth open. The cloth was forced into his mouth and tied tightly behind his head. Will had realized rapidly that this session was going to be unlike all of his previous sessions. But now he started getting scared. There was no point in gagging him when he was with Chilton. He was having these sessions because Chilton _wanted_ him to talk, gagging him would undoubtedly defeat the purpose of it all. But today Chilton clearly only had one purpose. To hurt him.

Chilton tugged on Will’s leash so that he was standing underneath the length of rope he’d use to suspend him. He tied the rope around Will’s wrist restraints in intricate knots before walking to the rear of the cell and hoisting him up onto his toes. Will’s wrists immediately began to ache and his abused muscles protested at the rough treatment.

“Another murder victim was found yesterday,” Chilton said, jerking his leash intermittently. “A Chesapeake Ripper victim.”

Will’s eyes shot up to Chilton’s at his last remark before he immediately dropped them again, hoping and praying that his relief wasn’t too obvious. Unfortunately, Chilton didn’t miss a thing.

“You’re relieved. Of course you are. You have every right to be I suppose. Jack Crawford phoned me this morning to let me know of your changed circumstances. But, know this, Will,” Chilton said, throwing his leash to the ground and walking behind him, “you don’t get released until tomorrow.”

Will heard Chilton unbuckle his belt and pull it from his belt loops before it whipped through the air and landed heavily on his back knocking the wind out of him. Even though Chilton hadn’t removed Will’s hospital-issue shirt, the lashes were still agonizing. By the time Chilton had finished, he could feel tears in the shirt and blood trickling down and soaking the waistband of his pants.

“Ah doesn’t that just warm you up in the middle of winter?” Chilton said. He pulled a tissue out and proceeded to wipe the blood off his belt.

Will closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping his breathing even. When that didn’t work he tried to meditate, focusing on the word ‘tomorrow’. Tomorrow he would be released. Tomorrow he would be set free from Frederick Chilton. Tomorrow he would finally be with Hannibal, without chains around his wrists securing him to a table.

“Now I want to try something different.” Chilton’s voice broke him out of his thoughts and he stiffened when he felt leather restraints around his ankles.

Chilton walked behind him and grabbed his collar. He twisted it around so that the padlock was at the front and the leash was at the back. Will knew where this was going and mentally prepared himself. But he wasn’t prepared enough when Chilton grabbed his ankle restraints and lifted his feet from the ground. His entire body weight was now hanging from his wrists and Will gasped, his breathing getting labored as he hung. Chilton rapidly tied his leash to his ankle restraints.

“A warning before I let go of your feet,” Chilton said. He plucked Will’s leash, tugging on his neck. “Don’t try to put them on the ground. Unless of course you _want_ to strangle yourself.”

And with that he let Will’s ankles go. The leash stopped his feet from hitting the ground and Will groaned as he realized the true extent of Chilton’s torture. His horribly bruised wrists and the agonizing muscles in his back, neck and shoulders were bearing the full weight of his body. And any attempt to put his feet on the ground resulted in the collar and leash choking him. Even now, he was feeling an ache in his leg muscles from keeping his knees slightly bent to relieve the pressure on his throat. His previously dislocated shoulder was on fire and his old gunshot wound was starting to send out twinges of hot pain.

“How long should I keep hanging like that do you think?” Chilton asked, surveying his captive. Will scrunched his eyes shut tightly, focusing only on breathing in and out through his nose. His muscles were burning, his windpipe felt constricted. He could feel his heart rate rising rapidly which quickened his breaths, exactly what he should be trying not to do right now.

“An hour?” Chilton was suggesting. “Two hours? I brought a book down with me.”

Will groaned miserably in response. White spots started to dance in front of his eyes. He would pass out soon, he realized. And then what? Would Chilton just let his legs fall limp? Let his suffocate himself? He opened his eyes but his vision was blurry, darkening at the edges. He groaned again, trying to make Chilton untie him. Just as his eyes closed involuntarily, Chilton cut the rope that tied him to the ceiling. He fell roughly onto his knees and then onto his side, onto his injured shoulder. At least he could breathe properly and he did so, taking in huge gulps of air through his nose and around the gag.

“I guess that’s probably enough then. At least you lasted, what, ten minutes? You’re as pathetic as the owner you’re going to run back to as soon as you’re let out of her,” Chilton spat.

He roughly grabbed Will’s hair and pulled him up to his knees. Will hung his head as much as he could. The leash was still attached to his ankles keeping him in an almost hogtie. Chilton untied the gag and jerked it from his mouth. Will was silent as he tongued the corners of his mouth, tasting blood from where the gag and his struggles had caused cuts.

“Suck me off,” Chilton ordered, pulling out his hard cock.

Will silently obeyed. He was almost happy to do it if it was the last time he’d have to. Especially since Chilton hadn’t roped up his arms behind his back again. He felt Chilton run his fingers through his hair and suppressed a disgusted shiver at the touch. Then he jerked when Chilton grabbed his collar. His throat was undoubtedly bruised from the collar and leash and with every tug and thrust, he could feel the collar cutting into the delicate skin on his throat. Finally Chilton came hard, buying his dick in Will’s mouth and pulling the collar so hard Will thought he might pass out again. He gave Will’s collar one last tug before letting go. Will bowed his head in exhaustion trying to catch his breath again.

“Well done, it’s nice to know your talents haven’t been wasted here,” Chilton said. He untied the leash from Will’s ankles and unbuckled the restraints on them before jerking him to his feet with the leash. Will staggered to his feet, his legs felt shaky and he still felt completely out of breath.

“I will miss you Will, but this won’t be the last time you’ll see me,” Chilton promised, stroking his cheek.

“W-why’s that?” Will said, his voice barely louder than a whisper and feeling as though his vocal cords had been sandpapered.

“Because Jack wants you to have regular sessions with me after your release,” Chilton replied.

“S-sessions? Like…these?” Will asked, feeling his stomach drop.

“Unfortunately not. I suppose that’s fortunate for you though.” Will closed his eyes and swallowed in relief, wincing at the burn in his throat. “Were you planning on telling Jack about these sessions?” Chilton questioned casually.

“I…I don’t k-know,” Will stammered.

“Because you know if you were to start telling him then you and I both know you wouldn’t tell him everything. And, believe me, I would. And I would, what’s the word? Embellish. Jack would probably never trust you again. At least at the moment he’s allowing you to come back and consult once you’ve gotten over the injuries you sustained quite recently in an attack by another inmate.”

Will’s wearied, sleep-deprived and pain-ridden brain was having trouble comprehending what Chilton was saying and he replied, “W-what attack?”

“This attack,” Chilton said before punching him so hard across the face he hit the floor immediately. Thankfully Will managed to bring his restrained hands up so he didn’t land face-first but he wasn’t quick enough to dodge Chilton’s vicious kick to his midsection. Or the four more kicks that followed. In a few minutes Chilton finally stopped and Will gulped in a shaky breath, hurting, literally, everywhere. His ribs screamed in pain and he could feel his face swelling. He’d certainly be a sight tomorrow he thought, right before he blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it! Leave a comment if this makes you happy like it makes me happy..


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I am very sorry it's taken me so long to post the next chapter! But here it is. A delightful helping of menacing Chilton, a liberal splash of contrite and regretful Jack, and barrels of hurt/nervous/scared Will and comforting/actual doctoring from Hannibal.
> 
> Enjoy...

Will awoke to the feel of someone jerking his shoulder. He winced at the pain and forced his eyes open. Well, at least his right eye. His left was swollen shut. Again. 

“Time to go,” Chilton said. 

Will forced himself to get off the uncomfortable bed, groaning as the movement aggravated injuries which seemed to cover his whole body.

“Get dressed,” Chilton ordered.

He dropped a pile of clothes onto Will’s bed and Will vaguely remembered them as the clothes he’d been wearing when he’d been imprisoned in this hospital four weeks ago. Chilton leaned up against the bars. He didn’t make any moves to leave.

“You’re not leaving?” Will asked, his voice hoarse, barely louder than a whisper.

“Nope. Get on with it. I don’t have all day, Will.”

 

* * *

 

An hour later and Will had changed clothes and had filled out all of the necessary paperwork. Chilton led him out to the front waiting room of the hospital. Jack and Hannibal were there and they immediately stood up when they saw him staggering forwards.

“Will, I’m so sorry,” Jack said, he was beside himself with regret and Will felt bad for him, despite the circumstances. “Are you alright? I heard about the attack.”

“I’ll be fine thanks Jack,” Will said, avoiding Jack’s eyes. A nurse walked through the front doors and a chill, icy gust of winter air blew in with her making Will shiver. He realized he didn’t have a coat, he hadn’t been wearing one when they’d taken him here.

“Will I brought your coat,” Hannibal said softly. “Do you want to wear it?”

“Yes, thank you,” Will replied.

Hannibal slowly walked up, unfolding the coat in his arms. Without asking he simply draped it over Will’s shoulders, knowing that he’d be putting Will through undue pain for getting him to actually fit his arms in the sleeves right now.

“I’m afraid Hannibal has some bad news for you,” Jack said, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“What is it?” Will asked.

“Your landlord evicted you in your absence. I’ve collected your things and put them into storage,” Hannibal explained.

Truth be told, Will was happy to be out of that dump. Although now he was out of a bed for tonight. 

“Hannibal has kindly offered his guest room for you to stay in for the interim,” Jack continued.

“Y-you have?” Will asked.

“You have?” Chilton echoed, frowning. It was the first time he’d spoken and Jack suddenly realized he was standing there – he’d been so overwhelmed by Will’s injuries he’d forgotten about the psychiatrist. 

“Sorry Dr Chilton, where are my manners?” Jack said, shaking his head. “Thank you for taking such exemplary care of Will. I’m sorry he had to leave your hospital after such an infrequent incident I’m sure. But he will be continuing his sessions with you on a fortnightly basis. Dr Chilton informed you of that, Will?”

“He did,” Will replied.

“Will, I think it’s high time we got you home. I feel you need a good, hearty meal and some rest. Does that sound good?” Hannibal suggested, keeping his tone light and professional.

“It does, thank you Dr Lecter,” Will said. He turned to Chilton. “Good bye Dr Chilton.”

“I’ll see you soon, Will,” Chilton said, with a grin.

 

* * *

 

 

Will inhaled deeply, ignoring the stabbing pains in his ribs, when, at last, he was seated and buckled into the passenger seat of Hannibal’s Bentley.

“Are you alright Will?” Hannibal asked, starting the car but only to turn on the heating. It didn’t escape Will that they’d had this very same conversation a few days ago in the visiting room of the hospital where he’d been cuffed to the table. 

“I will be.”

“Is there anything that needs tending to now or can it wait until we are home?” 

“It can wait,” Will replied. He rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed his eyes.

“Are you warm enough?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Rest now. I’ll wake you when we’re home,” Hannibal replied.

“Thank you,” Will said softly.

Hannibal pulled out of the hospital’s parking lot, raising a hand in farewell to Jack as they passed each other. He was happy when he heard Will’s breathing even out somewhat. He must have been exhausted, he’d fallen asleep in the car so fast. Hannibal took the drive back to his home very slowly, not wanting any potholes to jerk Will awake or exacerbate any injuries. He’d noticed the leather collar Will was wearing as soon as he’d seen him, even though only a hint of it peeked out from under his shirt. He’d remove that as soon as he got the chance and tend to Will’s other injuries. The injuries inflicted by none other than Chilton.

 

* * *

 

 

“Will…”

Will frowned in his sleep, wincing as the movement tugged on his blackened eye. 

“Will, wake up…”

He felt a hand touch his shoulder and he jerked awake, pressing himself against the door of the car and away from the man who’d touched him. Will relaxed when he realized where he was – in Hannibal’s car.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his throat was still too bruised and sore to do much more that whisper.

“You have nothing to apologize for dear Will,” Hannibal replied. “We are home.”

Hannibal got out of the driver’s seat and moved quickly to Will’s side of the car. He opened the passenger side door and helped Will up and out of the car. Will bit his lip to avoid making a sound and held his breath as he stood up. He leaned against the side of the big car while Hannibal closed the door and locked it then the two of them made their way slowly up to the front door, Will shivering from the gusts and flurries of icy winds.

Finally they were inside Hannibal’s warm home and seated at his dining table. This was the third time they’d been in this position, Will realized.

“Alright Will,” Hannibal said when he returned with his bag of medical supplies. “Let me see you.”

“Are you…I mean…Are you sure you w-want to?” Will murmured in reply. He absentmindedly reached up and tugged on the leather collar, pulling it away from his abraded skin.

“Of course I want to Will. I need to make sure you are alright,” Hannibal said, sitting down next to his beautiful boy. “I need to make sure that your injuries have been tended to. First let me rid you of that collar. Stay still, I don’t want to cut you inadvertently.”

Hannibal berated himself silently when his words caused Will to stiffen and his gaze to drop submissively. But not out of any desire to please Hannibal. Out of a desire to prevent any pain or punishment. Or torture to be more precise. Hannibal picked up the sharp kitchen scissors and slid one blade in between the collar and Will’s throat. He heard Will’s sharp intake of breath and put it down to the shock of the cold metal on his skin. Ever so carefully he brought the blades together and they cut through the leather of the collar and it fell into Hannibal’s waiting hand.

With the collar gone, Will felt like he could take a deep breath for the first time in days. He reached up and winced when he felt the angry, scraped skin in a line around his throat, as well as bruises from where the collar had dug in.

“I have salve that I will put on that,” Hannibal said softly.

“Thank you,” Will said, dropping his hand to his lap.

“I will need to remove your shirt, I will be as quick and as gentle as I possibly can,” Hannibal explained. He started unbuttoning Will’s shirt before gingerly sliding it off his shoulders. Just that one simple movement made Will hiss as the thick shirt slid over cuts and bruises. “Oh my goodness,” breathed Hannibal when he saw Will’s upper body laid bare.

“I…I couldn’t stop him…” Will said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Hannibal sighed gently but he felt Will tense up next to him again. “Will, I need you to stop thinking that any of this is your fault. And when something is not your fault there is no need to apologize. It is I who should be begging your forgiveness. I left you in there to rot. I didn’t fight Chilton anywhere near hard enough to visit you after he’d imposed his ban. As soon as I saw how injured you were at our first visitation I should have done something, anything to prevent…this.” Hannibal waved a hand in the direction of Will’s back in lieu of words.

Will didn’t quite know what to say in reply so he stayed silent. That method had worked well enough with Chilton.

“Don’t feel the need to talk,” Hannibal said, as if reading his thoughts. “Don’t do anything unless _you_ want to. Now, I will tend to your wounds. I have soup for dinner and an unbelievably comfortable bed for you to sleep in tonight.”

“Am…am I sleeping w-with you?” Will stammered, keeping his eyes lowered.

“No Will, not tonight at least. I want you to rest and recuperate. I wouldn’t be able to leave you alone if you were lying next to me at night right now,” Hannibal said with a smile. “Tomorrow maybe. But now let me look at your back.”

Will nodded, wincing at the strain in his neck muscles and turned himself in the chair so he was facing away from Hannibal. He felt the other man press a dampened cloth to his back and he breathed in as deep as his injured ribs would allow, trying to take his mind off the pain. Hannibal cleansed the cuts on his back thoroughly but gently. 

“Do…do any of them need s-stitches?” Will whispered, biting his lip when Hannibal cleaned a particularly painful cut on the back of his neck.

“No, I believe they should all be fine simply bandaged,” Hannibal said, wiping the disinfectant-soaked cloth over the last cut. Then he leaned forwards and pressed a delicate kiss onto an unmarked patch of skin on Will’s left shoulder. Will gasped and stiffened when he felt the kiss but almost immediately relaxed when he realized what it was.

“You have no idea how much I missed you Will,” Hannibal said softly, his breaths warm against Will’s neck.

Will closed his eyes, savoring Hannibal’s light caresses and soft kisses. It was a world away from the harsh cruelty dealt out by Chilton in the last three and a half weeks. Will couldn’t quite believe it had only been that short amount of time. But Chilton’s methods and teachings had sunk in quickly. Even now, he could smell what he assumed was dinner wafting from the kitchen, and he was worried that one wrong move would prohibit him from filling his starving stomach. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled noisily. 

“I’m sorry,” Will said quickly, ducking his head. “I…I c-can’t quite remember when I last ate.”

“I am almost done here then I will bring out our dinner,” Hannibal said, patching up the last of the cuts on his back. “Now, your ribs,” he added, finishing up on Will’s back. “How do they feel? I can check them but if they’re only bruised or cracked it will be extra pain for nothing. If one had broken I believe you would be in far more pain then you are at the moment.”

“I think they’re just bruised,” Will replied quietly. “I’ll let you know if they get worse b-but I think they’re only bruised.” 

“Your shoulder?” Hannibal asked, leaning closer to inspect Will’s right shoulder which was still badly bruised from being dislocated but thankfully wasn’t swollen anymore. “You missed the window for icing it. There’s…” he paused, taking a breath. _Will_ didn’t miss the window for icing his dislocated shoulder, _Chilton_ did. And he probably did everything in his power to make it worse with rough manhandling from the orderlies, his uncomfortable, hard bed and no painkillers whatsoever. “There’s nothing I can do for it now I apologize. You will just have to let it heal. The tendons and muscles will be sore for a few more weeks and the bruising will eventually go down. Recovery would have been much more rapid had the proper treatment been allowed to you.”

Will nodded in response, reaching up to absentmindedly massage his sore shoulder gently.

“The same goes for the bruises on your face,” Hannibal said. He slowly stretched out his delicate surgeon’s fingers to softly cup Will’s chin. He turned Will’s face so that he could better see his swollen left eye. The bruising was dark around it but there were no open cuts. “I’m sorry there isn’t more I can do for your wounds Will,” Hannibal apologized.

“It’s fine. I’ll be…I’ll be fine,” Will said, moving his face so that his ugly, sore, swollen black eye was out of Hannibal’s eyeline.

“Do not be ashamed of any of this Will,” Hannibal said, placing a gentle, soothing hand on his uninjured left shoulder and relishing the way his beautiful boy didn’t flinch in fear or wince in pain at his touch. “There is but one person who should be ashamed. And you and I both know exactly who that is. I only wish the real Chesapeake Ripper would have struck sooner so you weren’t in there for so long. And I wish I had fought harder to see you,” Hannibal added, his head dropping.

If he’d seen Will sooner he would’ve killed sooner. He hadn’t expected Chilton to be so ruthless. So utterly abusive of his powers at Baltimore State Hospital. He hadn’t anticipated the authority he had over his orderlies or the cruelty he’d inflicted on Will. He had known that Will being in that hospital under Chilton’s ‘care’ was never going to turn out to be a happy or pleasant stay but he’d never imagined the absolute torture that he’d put Will through. 

Will’s stomach rumbled again breaking both of them from their thoughts. Will bit his lip, trying to ignore his almost unbearable hunger. He knew he was with Hannibal now, not Chilton, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to ask outright for food.

“Are you comfortable here?” Hannibal asked him.

“Uh...yes?” Will answered, slightly confused, before repeating, “yes sir.” 

“I will be right back with our dinner then. Is water alright? As much as a glass of Semillon would go remarkably with our meal I don’t think it wise for you to drink in your condition.” 

“Water is fine…thank you s-sir.”

“Stay here then my beautiful boy,” Hannibal said, standing, his voice soothing and calm. He walked back to the kitchen not being able to help a glance over his shoulder at Will. Chilton had thoroughly broken him, Hannibal thought, finally letting a touch of his anger seep through his serene surface. He would have weeks at least of rebuilding to do after Chilton’s razing of Will’s poor psyche and injured body. He distributed the flavorful roast chicken soup he’d made earlier in the day and plucked the two freshly baked bread rolls from the oven. Before he walked back to the dining room he took a few deep breaths to release some of his pent-up anger.

He couldn’t be angry at Will right now. His poor boy needed time to heal. But every cloud had a silver lining. And in this case it wasn’t that Will needed time to heal but it was that he needed _Hannibal_ to help him heal.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! This is my first time putting a story up here, but I have a good many chapters of this one. Stay tuned! And if you have any ideas/suggestions, please let me know, I'd be happy to oblige.


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